


The Beastly Mr Darcy

by Elin Eriksen (Vaarin)



Category: Pride and Prejudice & Related Fandoms, Pride and Prejudice (1995), Pride and Prejudice (2005), Pride and Prejudice - Jane Austen
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Court Martial, Drama & Romance, Eye Trauma, F/M, Gossip, Happy Ending, Medical Trauma, Regency Romance, Scarification, Superstition, Swordfighting, Violence, Wedding Night
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-16
Updated: 2020-08-17
Packaged: 2021-03-05 21:42:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 17
Words: 44,838
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25932316
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Vaarin/pseuds/Elin%20Eriksen
Summary: What if Mr Darcy was no longer a handsome man? Can a man with a disfigured face and body relinquish his pride and find love where he would not expect it? Could a love match overcome the prejudice of a superstitious society? Angsty with a dark ambience and a dramatic backstory involving a violent assault. I am trying to paint a realistic picture of the living conditions during the Regency era that some might find offensive. This story is inspired by Pride and Prejudice with a tiny wink towards Beauty and the Beast.
Relationships: Elizabeth Bennet/Fitzwilliam Darcy, Jane Bennet/Charles Bingley
Comments: 107
Kudos: 214





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Note: I promised a contemporary rom-com next but alas, this story demanded to be written. 
> 
> Warning: Another badass Mr Darcy on his way to redemption, he may come across as even more haughty than the original.
> 
> I don’t know about you guys but it vexes me when I read a Beauty and the Beast story where the “beast” is tall, dark and handsome, occasionally a little arrogant and rude but mainly a hunk with bad manners. It made me want to write the opposite... This is not a beauty and the beast mashup as Mr Darcy's disfigurement is permanent, neither is it a fairy tale but the inspiration is probably discernible. 
> 
> Note 2: I will post this chapter by chapter but as always, the story is written in its entirety.
> 
> As always, there is a Pinterest board called Beastly on my site: elin (dot) haraldsdatt https://pin.it/1SDVUj6

The Beastly Mr Darcy, 45,4k, 129 pages, 17 chapters.

Chapter 1 Netherfield is Let at Last

As he stepped into the parlour, something dull and heavy connected forcefully with his skull.   
The next he knew, he lay sprawled on his back with a thumping ache in his head, something wet trickling down his face while pain speared his midriff. He tried to shield himself but neither his arms nor his legs cooperated. A heavy weight slumped over him as his face started to burn, fiercely.  
He screamed before darkness relieved him from his excruciating anguish.

~***~

“Mr Bennet, Mr Bennet! Netherfield has been let at last. Mrs Phillips says it is a handsome and single gentleman from the north of vast fortune, four or five thousand a year!”

“So? What is he to me but another neighbour of which I will be forced out of my comfortable book-room to visit? And to what purpose if I may ask?”

“He must marry one of the girls, of course. Oh, you enjoy vexing me. How can you be so obtuse...”

“If you have it all figured out my dear, I can see no reason for me to stir from my conveniences. Gooday, Mrs Bennet.”

“But you have to visit him! How else are the girls going to be introduced to him?”

“I am sure your stellar plan has numerous solutions for this meagre little hiccup. Shoo, out of my book-room. I have to work if you want to buy more fripperies before the assembly on the morrow.”

“Reading dusty old books?” Mrs Bennet raised her eyebrow of which Mr Bennet was oblivious. His eyes had reverted back to the tome in his hands, utterly distracted.

Mrs Bennet huffed and sailed out of the door, rumbling into an assortment of eavesdropping daughters.

“Oh mama, is it true?”

“Is he handsome?”

“How rich?”

“Does he plan to stay long?

“Where is he from?”

“One at a time, girls. I know no more than you other than a handsome, rich and single gentleman has let Netherfield. Mrs Phillips thought he had four or perhaps five thousand pounds a year but that is all we are to know if your father does not stir from his book-room. Oh, how are you to be introduced? I doubt your father can be coerced into dragging himself to the next assembly. If Mr Bingley will even attend.”

“Mr Bingley, such a jolly name.” Jane mused out loud.

“Yes, like Mrs Primrose is the primmest and most proper lady in the neighbourhood. She certainly has a flowery language...”   
Elizabeth teased.

Mrs Primrose was not really a Mrs but the appellation made it slightly more seemly to accept gentleman callers, unattended...

~***~

Mr Bingley did attend the assembly. The sea of dancing couples parted when he and his entourage entered their humble dwelling. 

He was accompanied by his two sisters and a brother by marriage. The ladies acted like they were above the company while the brother was an insipid man, interests ranging from the food on his plate to the drink in his glass. Mr Bingley, however, became the favourite of the entire Meryton population. Always cheerful and ready to please and be pleased by anyone and everyone. Although he danced twice with only one lady.

~***~

The days after the assembly, proved to everyone that among his new friends, one person, in particular, had caught his interest. Solidified after Jane had the misfortune of falling ill, visiting with his sisters, prompting a longer stay under Netherfield’s roof. 

The rumours were confirmed by the Netherfield ball where an engagement was announced by a proud father who had managed to get a daughter engaged with as little inconvenience to himself as possible. 

Two others who had undertaken great inconvenience to avoid the entanglement was Mr Bingley's sisters but no cajoling, threats or inducements could make the young man waver in his decision. 

A storm was brewing though, another of the Bennet daughters had caught a gentleman’s fancy... 

Unfortunately, she was not inclined to accept. The debacle had sorted itself by the sacrifice of said daughter’s best friend who regarded the union more as a mean's to a respectable position in society than an actual sacrifice. The ambience at Longbourn and unavoidable, Netherfield had soured significantly. 

~***~

Jane chose to marry Mr Bingley with all haste in January 1812, after a less than five weeks long betrothal, to avoid her mother's lamentations that Elizabeth had not secured her place as Longbourn's mistress.

Mr Bingley was appalled how the mother could treat her own daughter, as she was cattle to be sold at the market. It did not take him long to invite his new sister to visit Netherfield on a more permanent basis. 

Unfortunately, the displeased lady followed. Visiting every day from early morning to late in the evening.   
Who was managing the household at Longbourn in her absence shall not be mentioned but it was certainly not its mistress.   
She was too occupied scolding her second daughter, interspersed with ill advise for her eldest daughter. 

The interference even began to grate on the amiable Mr Bingley until he could bear it no longer. A dispatch was sent to the north with inquiries about estates for sale, closer to his businesses.   
Mr Gardiner had reminded him of the convenience of being close to one’s affairs to oversee them at his wedding. A favourable reply was received by March but it included a conundrum.

Thornbrook Hall was situated close by his secluded friend, who may or may not welcome the intrusion of Bingley's new family for a few weeks while Bingley inspected the estate. Bingley thought he would be better off asking for forgiveness in retrospect than permission in advance. The latter he doubted he would get, the first he hoped was achievable. 

His friend’s withdrawal from society was self-imposed. It could not be as bad as his letters suggested, Mr Darcy had always regarded his cup as half empty. Chances were he was exaggerating. Eventually, the letters dispatched among the old friends had become fewer and farther between, until they had trickled into nothing.

Mr Bingley would have liked to know what had happened to him last summer but he dared not ask outright. A visit might enable him to relieve some of his friend’s burden, whatever it was but firstly, he had an adjacent problem to deal with. Caroline whose nuisance grew by the day, was putting a damper on his newly wedded bliss. Something had to be done...

“Charles!”

“In here, Caroline.”

Slipper clad feet entered his study but not the one's he would have preferred.

“You cannot mean to linger here at this backwater when the season is in full swing.”

“I am on my honeymoon, Caroline. I have no interest in society.”  
Caroline huffed unbecomingly. “You have been married for three months, I believe it is safe to say your honeymoon is over.”

“Yet, I have no wish to go to London.”

“That woman, your sweet Jane's mother is driving me to distraction. Just hearing her voice is giving me a headache. Can you not ban her from the house? It should be enough that I must put up with Elizabeth’s impertinence but the mother...”

“I cannot, as you well know, Caroline, but I am not unsympathetic to your plight. May I make it up to you with some additional funds and the loan of my carriage to convey you to Hurst's townhouse? It is not much but it is the best I can do at the moment.”

“How much?”

“50 guineas!”

“500!”

“Final offer, 250...”

“Order the carriage by noon tomorrow, brother.”

He knew he should not have. Pay to get his sister off his back but the truth was that compared to Jane, Caroline was a screeching banshee and he had had just about enough of shrill shrieks around the house. Some quiet solitude (his wife counted as alone) in harmony with nature (the baser part) would suit him just fine. With the wilds of Derbyshire on their doorstep, Elizabeth would be out of doors, rambling about for most of the day, leaving Bingley to more pleasant pursuits...

~***~

Caroline had barely left the house when Bingley called his wife and miss Elizabeth to his study, leaving mother Bennet to fend for herself.

Jane and Elizabeth were thrilled at the prospect of a journey north, having travelled so little themselves. Bingley would have thought that an impediment but the mention of a visit to Lambton sure had been an effective inducement. Their aunt Gardiner hailed from the little village and had spoken of it often in a positive light.

He had half expected Elizabeth to beg off. She had been much in the company of a certain officer, but he had recently transferred his affection to a Miss Mary King, an heiress with ten thousand pounds. The betrayal had not injured the jilted party as much as he would have expected. Her heart must not have been touched, after all.

Mama Bennet was another matter entirely, she screeched and shrieked until even Jane was glad their day of departure had finally come. Giddy with expectations of an unprecedented adventure, the trio set out from Netherfield at the crack of dawn. Much too early to stop at Longbourn for the last goodbye as Mrs Bennet had demanded... In two and a half days they would enter Pemberley, the estate of his best friend, Mr Darcy. Mr Bingley longed to gauge the situation for himself, in person.

~***~

“Dear brother, what can you tell us about your friend Mr Darcy?”

The truth of the matter was that he really did not know...

He knew him well enough on a personal level but something had happened last summer that had made his long time friend go back on his word and flatly refuse to come to Hertfordshire with him as he had promised. 

As a renowned and experienced landowner, Mr Darcy's advice would not go amiss when a greenhorn like himself was trying to run an estate on his own... Any other man and Bingley would have taken it in a stride but not Darcy. He never went back on his word, a more honourable man did not exist, yet...

“He is intellectually superior, an honourable gentleman and the most loyal friend.”

“But... I sense a but, Mr Bingley.”

“You are too perceptive for your own good, Miss Elizabeth. There is a but... He had some kind of accident last summer. I do not know what happened but the result has been that he has withdrawn from society at large and spends his time alone at Pemberley.”

“Has he no family?”

“He does have a much younger sister but she resides with his aunt and uncle at Matlock. Both his parents are deceased.”

“He must be lonely,” Jane suggested.

“Yes, I suppose he is...”


	2. The Beast

Chapter 2 The Beast

Mr Bingley entered Mr Darcy's study, announced by his butler.   
As usual, Mr Darcy was lurking by the window with his back turned towards his guest, in an attempt to hide his disfigurement to whoever had the courage to entered his sanctuary.   
Not an uncommon stance prior to his injuries, though not while greeting guests.   
Mr Bingley did not know the extent of his facial wounds and Mr Darcy would have preferred to keep it that way.   
Mr Darcy sighed, it had been more than a year since they had last seen each other. When they had all been together at a ball in London.

“Bingley, have I not told you never to darken my door again?”

“Repeatedly, I chose not to obey...”

Mr Darcy barked out a harsh laugh.

“You have grown a backbone since last we met, have you finally married off your overbearing sister?”

“I am afraid not, Darcy, but she is currently at Louisa and Mr Hurst because I have finally married. Will you not greet my wife, Darcy? I present to you my angel, Mrs Jane Bingley nee Bennet.” Bingley announced with pride in his voice. 

Bingley had mentioned a certain Jane Bennet in his infrequent, unintelligible letters. He had not thought it so serious as to marry the girl but he had obviously been mistaken. By what he recalled she was a pretty gentleman's daughter with an insignificant dowry and no connections worthy of mentioning.   
Darcy turned his head slightly towards Bingley, letting his good side show. The apparition before him made him forget himself and veer around completely. As predicted, the lady gasped and inched closer to her husband with wide, frightened eyes. Speaking of eyes... He patted his left side to assure himself the patch was in place, it was but he probably should turn away his gaze before Bingley's angel fainted into her husband’s arms.   
It was a difficult task. Her blue eyes, blond hair and symmetrical facial features rendered her uncommonly beautiful. It had been a long time since he had laid his eyes on pure divinity. Singularly, the goddess did not faint but rather straightened her spine and curtsied on confident legs.

“A pleasure to meet you, Mr Darcy. Mr Bingley mentions you and your esteemed friendship often.”

The vision moved her enchanting blue eyes to her husband who had momentarily lost his ability to speak. The love that shined from her cornflower blue eyes was unmistakable while Bingley reciprocated, adding a tenfold. It was obviously a love match. A heavenly connection he had no qualms believing his friend deserved. He was a true friend, unlike so many others he could think of.

“What do you want, Bingley?”

Darcy moved to his desk and sat down to conceal his most hideous features.

“I am contemplating buying a property in the neighbourhood and wanted your opinion on the estate.”

Bingley had not been deterred and moved eagerly towards his desk. Obviously bursting with eagerness to relate some scheme or another...

“Netherfield did not live up to your expectations?”

“Yes and no. I find that one can live too close to your own relations and too far away from other pursuits.”

“You do not have any relations in Hertfordshire...”

“I do now and it is not I but my new sister who needs a little distance.”

Darcy stifled a groan if she was anything like his other mercenary, cloying sisters she would be in for a nasty surprise. 

“Why, has she been compromised?”

“No, it is more to escape unwanted attention.” 

Another beautiful blond perhaps? It was if no matter, it still left much to be desired of Bingley's new family connection. It should not have fallen on Mr Bingley's shoulder to protect her.

“Could not her father protect her from the unwanted attention?”

“Unfortunately, he is part of the problem. The suitor though an obnoxious, sycophantic fool is the heir presumptive to their estate, Longbourn. I believe I have mentioned it in my letters, Longbourn abuts Netherfield.   
Mrs Bingley has four sisters, you see, and no brothers. Mr Collins is her father’s cousin twice removed and your aunt Catherine’s parson at Hunsford. I fear that Miss Elizabeth is little suited to be a parsons wife, neither would she thrive under your aunt's condescension. Mr Collins has since transferred his affection elsewhere but Mrs Bennet does not let Miss Elizabeth forget her failing in securing the Bennet family the mistress position at Longbourn. We invited her to come and live with us at Netherfield but Mrs Bennet was not deterred by the relocation and Mr Bennet could not be stirred from his book-room to rein in his wife..”

Darcy did not doubt it, Bingley had a thing for succumbing to headstrong, impudent women. Why should his new family be any different? His wife seemed like a quiet little thing though. She kept her own counsel, smiled adoringly at her husband and let him do the talking. A refreshing experience where a relation of Mr Bingley was concerned. Unfortunately, the sister sounded nothing like her. A country maiden with little to offer, foolish enough to turn down the man who could secure her future and save Mr Bingley from the burden of providing for an additional four unmarried sisters and a mother when Mr Bennet left the earth which in his experience might come sooner rather than later.

“Is she here?”

Bingley's eyes flickered towards his wife. He need not answer, it was plain to see by Bingley's demeanour.

“You know I do not like to socialize, Bingley.”

It was the enchanting wife that moved a step forward to answer.

“You will not notice we are here, Mr Darcy. We will make ourselves scarce if you do not enjoy the company. If not, we will remove to the Inn at Lambton. My aunt mentioned it as a respectable establishment.”

It might have been a respectable establishment, once upon a time but the Rose and Crown was not what it used to be. Ruffians, wastrels and ragamuffins were more likely to frequent the waterhole than gently bred members of society and Bingley was too trusting for his own good. He probably should have attended to this misfortunate development but he had his own woes that occupied all of his time.

“You may stay... If you can entertain yourselves?”

“We will be out most of the day, looking at the property I mentioned and others that I may come to regard as an option for me to buy. What do you know about Thornbrook Hall?”

“A lot more than you would like to know before you have had a chance to refresh yourselves. Let us adjoin to the parlour while I attend to your accommodations.”

Bingley smiled in relief, it was obvious he not taken his hospitality for granted. Darcy gestured for his guests to proceed him, sparing them of the ghastly sight he now was to look upon. He waited a few moments more to let the sister that undoubtedly was waiting in the hallway, to catch up with Mr Bingley.

She did not, no one followed Bingley along the hallway but his wife. Bingley must have expected her to be there because he kept looking about himself, searching for the wayward damsel.   
She did not materialize but the reliable Mrs Reynolds did. She was wringing her hands, uncertain if she had acted correctly by admitting Mr Bingley. He gave her a nod of approval and her shoulders dropped an inch. Had he become such a monster, even to Mrs Reynolds? His mood left something wanting but it was not his intention to make his most trusted servant wary of him...

~***~

Where was that bloody sister of Mr Bingley? Probably a six and teen-year-old hellion with her head in the clouds. Speaking of clouds, they were gathering over his castle, enveloping them in gloomy darkness. The capricious April weather agreed perfectly with his mood...

Mr and Mrs Bingley were speaking quietly behind his back while Darcy tried to give them some privacy by gazing out over the darkening gardens from another window.

“Your rooms have been readied, Mr Bingley.” 

Bless Mrs Reynolds, saving him from the tedious company of the moon-eyed lovers. Despite their obvious affection, there was also weariness in their posture. Their travels must have been strenuous and cold...   
Mrs Bingley shivered despite her seat near the fire. She would probably not retire until her sister had been located. Mr Darcy turned his back at them again, continuing his scrutiny of the clouds lest it be the sight of him that made her tremble.   
The shadow of a lone figure loomed against the setting sun, the wind billowing in her skirts.

“I just spotted your wayward sister, Mrs Bingley. You may retire with your husband, I will fetch her and deliver her safely into the trusted hands of Mrs Reynolds so that she may refresh herself in her room. The rain is coming and I cannot in good conscience send you or Bingley into what looks out to be a downpour. Jacob! Fetch my greatcoat and my wide-brimmed hat.”

Darcy removed himself before his guests had time to voice their protests. Striding out into the foyer where Jacob promptly handed him his coat and hat. At least his servants no longer flinched in his presence. Morose, he took the steps two at a time.

~***~

The gravel crunched beneath his feet as he gained upon the interloper. Not a blond beauty like her sister but a tiny brunette, unfashionable in every way. He could only see the back of her but it was enough to form an opinion. Her hair was down which was simply not done in polite society. Not that he deemed himself of the uppermost éclat but she did not know that. All she knew was that she was to be the guest of one of the most prosperous and ancient houses in Derbyshire and chose to honour the distinction by letting her hair blow freely in the wind and dress in a threadbare brown coat that on closer inspection had clearly been mended, several times over. Bingley must have refurbished his wife’s wardrobe, she was impeccably attired, showing the respect he still felt incumbent upon him. His looks may have faltered but he was still a Darcy...   
Perhaps Bingley had an ulterior motive. He never took pains to rein in his sister when last they had visited Pemberley, the summer of 1810. She had attached herself to his arm like a leach, flattered him at every opportunity whilst unabashedly singing her own praises. Was he walking into an ambush of the conjugal kind? No, he could not believe it of Bingley but the little hoyden in front of him should be left with no doubt of his opinion. Discouraged from any notions of matrimonial prospects.

“I am not hiring...”

“What?” 

The girl turned, he dipped his head. The brim low on his forehead, shielding himself against the first droplets of rain, shielding the girl from against a ghastly sight.

“I have enough scullery maids, I am not hiring.”

“Really, because this rose surely should have been cut this spring, it looks neglected to me. Perhaps you are in need of a gardener...”

His head snapped up involuntary. There were no roses blooming in April she must have been in his hothouse and pilfered a rose. The impudence! No wonder the girl had not married. She was more likely to have been sent away in disgrace than to have allegedly, spurned an unwanted suitor. Bingley was gullible, he had evidently been duped by a pretty face and her plain sister who was currently bent over a long-stemmed pink rose, smelling its vibrant fragrance.  
Her head rose from the bloom, he waited for the gasp, readying himself to catch her when she fainted.  
Her eyes were too dark to be blue, as far as he could tell in the fading light. 

“I hope you do not mind your gardener giving me this?” She lifted the rose towards him, the delicate scent wafted through his nostrils. 

“Depends on who you are?”

“Lead me to Mr Bingley and my brother will introduce us.”

He did not offer her his arm but turned and supposed she would follow, she did...

Mrs Reynold waited for the unmatched pair in the foyer.

“Our wayward guest, I presume.” 

He gestured towards the creature behind him and continued up the stairs to the sanctity of his study. Safe at last, he slumped uncharacteristically into his chair and poured himself a generous amount of Brandy. The next few days would be trying. He would endure it but perhaps it was wise to aid Bingley in his quest to speedily acquire or preferably reject, the Thornbrook Hall estate...

~***~

What a brute...

Pretending to mistake her for a scullery maid in search of work.   
It was not her fault her hair had blown out of its pins, neither was it entirely her fault that her best cloak was in dire need of laundry...   
He had not looked that smart himself.   
Of course, the majority of the man had been covered in an impressive greatcoat and a wide-brimmed hat but his hair was much longer than what was fashionable, covering half of his countenance, and no one with respect for themselves sported a full beard... 

No arm had been offered when the rain started pelting down, adding discourtesy to his character.   
Not that she was in need of an arm to walk sure-footed but he could not know she was not one of the wilting flowers of the ton.   
Well... a withering flower of the ton would not have been caught dead with their hair down, dressed in threadbare attire.   
She chuckled at her own folly but Mr Darcy was definitely rude, end of discussion, but his house was warm if not exactly inviting.   
The several hundred year old castle looked more forbidding than welcoming with storm clouds gathering above its turrets. Very few windows exhibited any light from within, making it look abandoned and neglected. More like a gloomy mausoleum than an inhabited family home.

Mrs Reynolds, on the other hand, was a delightful old lady, she reminded her of Mrs Nichols, the housekeeper at Netherfield. A very capable woman as well as warm and friendly. Not many had acted friendly towards Elizabeth for the last few months.

~***~

Venison was served at dinner, the plain one seemed particularly delighted and was expressing herself effusively. 

“I do not believe I have tasted venison before. It is absolutely heavenly and so tender it hardly needs chewing. Please send my compliments to your cook, Mr Darcy, and thank you for honouring your guests with such a rare treat.”

Darcy considered correcting the chit, wrongly addressing his French chef as a cook but he doubted she knew the difference when she thought venison a rare treat.

“It is not rare at Pemberley, Miss Bennet, I have a herd in the woods.”

“Oh, I did not know you could breed them...”

‘Why must he make me feel stupid, could the man not accept a compliment and leave it at that? Vexing man...’ Elizabeth harboured no illusions towards the difference in their stations in life. She was landed gentry, he was landed gentry but of the upper éclat due to his wealth and illustrious connections of which Elizabeth had none. Although there was a little more wealth connected to their name, now that Jane had married Mr Bingley.


	3. Thornbrook Hall

Chapter 3 Thornbrook Hall

Binley was summoned to Mr Darcy's study the next morning. It was broad daylight and the master wore a patch over his injured eye when he entered, as he had done the previous evening.

“You are up early, Bingley. Has Mrs Bingley had a positive influence on your personal habits?”

“Most certainly but I have another incentive to deprive me of my beauty sleep this morning. I plan to visit Thornbrook at my earliest convenience. I am exceedingly grateful you have admitted us under your roof after we showed up uninvited which is why I have no intention of exhausting your hospitality unnecessary. I have ordered the carriage at ten o’clock. By then the ladies will have broken their fast and hopefully be ready to depart.”

“Why are you taking the carriage? It is less than ten miles, surely it would be more convenient to ride. I know of a shortcut through the woods that would save you an ample amount of time.”

“I would certainly prefer it and my wife is an accomplished rider but Elizabeth is not.”

Darcy harrumphed, a fine specimen of a gentile woman would ride daily. Another example of the lack of breeding in the Bennet household. He began to wonder if they had anything at all to recommend them but a pretty face, the younger one had not even that.

“So... I am eager to hear your thoughts about Thornbrook, Darcy. Is it a sound investment?”

“It has been neglected for the last couple of years but the main house should have weathered that well. It is a sturdy brick house, a few windows might be broken but I am not concerned. I am less certain about the outbuildings and the fields that have lain fallow. It will be a gruelling task to get them ready for planting, you will need at a lot of men. The cost of all the repairs and maintenance needed will be excessive.”

“The price is tempting though, it will leave me with extra funds to restore it to its former days. Are there any men available to take on the work?”

“I hardly think you will have any problem with finding abled bodied men. The Duke of Devonshire's mines are not doing too well, he has had to lay off many of his workers. Ecton’s main pipe is failing, have been since the 1790s, a lot of miners have been made redundant. Clayton is still doing well so I doubt the duke will suffer much though...”

“Great, I will leave you to your work and find the ladies. Will you join us at ten?”

“I will but I will be riding outside the carriage, Jupiter needs to stretch his legs on a longer trip.”

Bingley nodded and merrily went in search of his wife. He already knew about the redundant mine workers but he had not known if they were still in the area.

Darcy remembered a time when Bingley had been much more reluctant to leave his company. Bingley had not had a wife at the time but neither had his own face and body been marred. He sensed no repulsion though, from Mr Bingley. He was the eager, happy puppy he had always been, even towards himself.

~***~

Thornbrook loomed in front of them, abandoned and unloved. Bingley jumped from the carriage, energized by the task ahead. Elizabeth and Jane lingered a little and strolled leisurely towards the deserted manor.

“I had expected it to be better kept, Lizzy...” 

A shadow of doubt had crept upon Jane as she regarded what could potentially be her new home. The house looked well enough but for the moss and vines that made the stone house look green from a distance.   
That needed to be trimmed away. 

The gardens were overgrown and the fields were utterly neglected. Weed ruled where there once had grown corn, vegetables and herbs whilst the windows glared naked and bare at them.

“All it needs is some tender love and care, Jane. Ladled with an ample dose of a vivid imagination. Mr Bingley will hire workers to mend the fences and work the land, maids will clean the house. Look at it this way, as a clean slate to make your own. Let us go inside the house and see what needs to be done there and let the gentlemen tend to their business outside.”

Jane grabbed her sister’s hand, together they entered the front door, drawing strength from each other. It was not as bad as the outside. No windows were broken but there was not much furniture and what was, bore the testimony of time and neglect. The wallcoverings were hanging from the walls in the front parlour but in the back, there was another one in a better condition. They ascended the creaky stairway, only one bedroom appeared to have been in use. It was of a generous size with a large, four-poster bed but the drapes were threadbare. It would all need to be replaced, the musty smell of unused combined with humidity had ruined every fabric.   
The other bedrooms, of which there were five, were in even worse condition, only one had something that resembled a bed. It was a small cot, not fit for an adult, built-in place. It was evidently clear that the owner must have had substantial financial troubles over an extended period of time. Every item that held any value must have been sold off.

“Let us close our eyes, Jane and imagine how it would look like when it is clean, painted and furnished.”

“It might be stretching my ability to pretend, Elizabeth.”

“Then let me guide you. What if this front room had wallpaper with pink roses...”

~***~

“It is in even worse condition than I imagined...”

“Balderdash, Darcy, it is just in need of some work.”

“You are aware, Bingley, that working the land is not as lucrative as it once was? In fact, it yields very little if you plan to make a living out of it.”

“I do not... I never told you this but I still have my businesses.”

“Why would you lie?”

“I did not. Everyone just assumed, including you, that I had sold my fathers mills and smelting company.”

“How come you have so much capital?”

“My father and my grandfather before him, saved much of the capital, invested even more... It still yields much more than the rumours.”

“Who does not have more or less than what is rumoured. They never seem to get it right but I still do not understand why you felt the need to conceal it, especially from me.”

“I thought I had to because of the position my father wanted me to have in society. He wanted me to sell out but I could not. It is my family's inheritance despite what society in large might think. When the handloom weavers began destroying equipment and with the Luddites swearing their oaths, March last year in Nottingham... I kept my counsel since I have a textile mill in Sheffield and one in Lancaster. I was worried they might go after my family if everyone knew but I do pay may workers decent wages. I have not had any problems with the handloom weavers nor the Luddites. With the corn bill, regular minimum wages could no longer put bred on the table, even for those who had work. I raised the wages and all the unrest died down, thankfully. It yields less but it would have been even more expensive if my looms had been destroyed.”

“Why the change of heart?”

Bingley looked longingly towards the house the ladies had disappeared into.

“Jane... Caroline insisted I should not marry my wife. It would significantly diminish our position in society because Jane was not a well-connected heiress. I found that position in society mattered little to me if the sacrifice was to be my personal happiness and I have suffered not one moment of regret because of it. I intend to grow what I can to sustain myself and let tenants deal with the rest of the land like you do. Ensuring myself that I have enough labourers to get by while I live on my investments. The workers I hire that excel in their work will be offered a piece of land to let. I will have to build cottages and repair the ones I have but it has its own reward. Creating a small community of our own in my own little corner of England. To honour my father’s wishes while still following my own dreams. Do you think it is stupid?”

“No, by no means. Industry is the future, the land can no longer support us. Even I have investments outside of my land.”

“You have?”

“Yes, several different investments but I have no beautiful wife to share it with.”

“You should marry, Darcy... I recommend the institution whole-heartedly.”

“It is not in the cards for me, Bingley.”

“Have you never been in love, Darcy?”

“I have had my share of infatuations and a certain degree of fondness for a couple of ladies. If it was love, I dare not say...”

“You would have had no doubt if it was love. It has given me a sense of purpose that I lacked. Made me a better man but it has also made me more conscious of my responsibilities. When we have children... I guess that having another human dependent upon you is a somewhat humbling experience, in between the blessed happiness.”

“I have done you a disservice, Bingley. I have underestimated you. You have greater depth than I have given you credit for. Perhaps it is me that should come to you for advice, next time.”

Bingley clapped Darcy on the shoulder.

“I sincerely doubt that unless it pertains matters of the heart. In that, I believe I am your superior. Who would not be with my ethereal, loving Jane by my side? Speaking of which, it looks like the ladies have finished their inspection. Shall we?”

The gentlemen met the ladies halfway down the garden path.

“What are your verdict, dear ladies? Have Bingley's Park or perhaps we should call it Eden of Jane, impressed you sufficiently or are we to flee the premises?” Mr Bingley quipped.

“What is wrong with Thornbrook? Would you change the name of Pemberley to Darcy castle or Fitzwilliam's Paradise, Mr Darcy?” Elizabeth protested.

“Certainly not!” came the immediate reply.

“A pity, I thought perhaps Darcy’s Delight would have suited.” Elizabeth wore her usual teasing smile, amusement glittering in her green eyes.

“You think my house is delightful?”

“Although your house is grand, I believe I had the grounds in mind when I named it and I do have a hankering to explore it this afternoon. No more stuffy indoors for me.”

“You would probably get lost,” Darcy warned, he had no desire to search his vast park for a wayward damsel.

“Not if I stick to the paths. Even a scullery maid can walk back and forth on a path.”

‘Yes, definitely impertinent, bordering on plain rude,’ he thought but did not voice his judgment out loud.

Bingley had long since given up understanding Elizabeth's twisted witticisms. If the exchange had unnerved him, he gave no outward evidence of it.

“But what about the house,” Bingley complained.

“Oh, it will be lovely if the plans we have made can be accomplished. We have decided on colours and wall coverings. Elizabeth blackmailed me into painting her bedroom blue by threatening to paint our parlour in the colour of an orange if I did not comply. I know the exotic fruit is all the rage in town but Lizzy needs to be taken down a notch. What say you if we were to put her up in the attic, a pleasant dusty room should suffice.”

Bingley laughed and kissed his wife on the nose while Elizabeth threw her hands up in the air in mock surrender.

“Fine, you will have your pink bedroom but do not blame me when your morning sickness intensifies with a tenfold.” Elizabeth slapped both her hands over her mouth. “Forgive me! I did not mean to reveal your secret.”

“Do not distress yourself, dear sister. We are all friends here. Mr Darcy will not run back to Hertfordshire and tell Mrs Bennet until we are ready to reveal the good news. Preferably after the child has been born.” Bingley remarked good-naturedly in his teasing tone.

“Charles, have you decided if this is to be our home?”

“I have. If you agree, dear Jane, I will proceed with the purchase as soon as possible. The land needs to be worked upon as soon as possible if we expect to have any crops to harvest this year. There is no cause for delay but is this what you want?”

“It is...”


	4. Renovations and Distractions

Chapter 4 Renovations and Distractions

Trips to Derby, Chesterfield and Sheffield were necessary to find all the fabrics, furniture and wall coverings they needed to make Thornbrook inhabitable. London would have broadened the selection on offer but the journey would have been taxing on the expecting mother and Bingley was reluctant to leave the oversight of the work to anyone else.  
He was eager to move into his own home and let Darcy have his estate to himself. Although the man often came by to help or inspect some quandary or another. He had been appalled one day when he found the ladies of the house with their heads bent and their hands dirtied in the herbal garden.

“Do you not have enough hands, do you need to hire more men, Bingley?” Mr Darcy inquired distraughtly.

“No, the ladies insisted. Apparently, the herbal garden and flower beds at Longbourn were their responsibility and they trust none other with their precious plants. I have hired a gardener. He is allowed to tend the lawn, bushes and trees.”

Bingley smiled at his toiling wife but Darcy was not convinced it was a task for a gentile lady. Long forgotten visions of his mother tending her roses floated across his mind. Surely roses was another matter entirely. A sort of high society among the flora.

~***~

The day had come, he knew it was inevitable but he did not have to like it. The day he would rue letting Mr Bingley and his entourage into his house...

There was an assembly in Lambton. He had received an invitation but was set on declining, as always, when Bingley had begged him to attend. Conflicting emotions warred within him. He had tried to convince Bingley that an introduction by himself might not be such a good idea since the Lambton inhabitants regarded him as a demonized monster. The aforementioned introduction might do more harm than good but Bingley sported a stubborn streak he had not encountered before. He seemed to believe that Bingley's friendship might assure the Lambton folks that he was not such a dangerous beast.   
Darcy was not convinced but the duty to his friend demanded it of him whilst his distaste for society revolted inside him. He needed to think and ordered his horse saddled. A refreshing sprout over the meadows would restore his equilibrium, he could inspect his herd of deer as an excuse to forgo his other responsibilities.

~***~

Windswept, he drew Jupiter to a halt, dismounted and tied him to a tree. The stallion might scare the animals he was trying to inspect which would be counterproductive to his purpose. He walked a few hundred yards, stopped and listened for the telltale signs sounds of a flock of deer in motion.   
Nothing! He ventured deeper into the woods when he was surprised by the sound of voices.   
Bloody poachers, if he got his hands on them he would not be merciful. They would be lucky if he let the magistrate hang them...   
Moving stealthily towards the intruders, a sight he had not suspected met him at the thicket. Out from the bushes came Elizabeth hauling a boy of no more than ten by the elbow. In the other hand, she held an old rusty rifle. 

“Please, mam! Do not report me to the owner. Poaching is a hanging offence, mam.”

“I know but you have just committed a crime and I cannot let it pass unaddressed.”

“Please, Miss. I have a mother and two sisters to support. I am too young for the mines, no one needs another delivery boy. I have no choice...”

“Where is your father?”

“Dead.”

“That is a lot to carry on such young shoulders. What is your name?”

“Joe. Joe Cole,” he added after a stern look from the lady, still clutching his arm.

Elizabeth was quiet for a while, studying the boy intently.

“You must understand, Joe, that had you actually killed one of Mr Darcy's deer, I would not have had a choice in the matter but to report you. But... Since you did not and I seriously doubt this rusty old thing could have, had you even tried... Most likely it would have backfired and the only one who would be injured is yourself. These considerations have made me decide to not report you to Mr Darcy.”

“Thank you, mam. You will not be sorry, mam. Can I have my rifle back?”

“No you cannot and I was not finished. No more interruptions or I might change my mind. I will dispose of the weapon but I am willing to compensate you for the loss. Here are fifteen shillings, more than the old thing was worth but it comes with a condition. You must buy a bushel of grain to tie you and your family over for the next month because you are working for me, as my gardener during the aforementioned period. If you prove yourself worthy and a hardworking lad, you will have the position permanently with a salary. If you do not, I wash my hands of you. Do you know where Thornbrook Hall is? I expect you bright and early on Monday.”

The lad nodded solemnly, wringing his hat in his hands.

“Do not disappoint me, Joe.”

“Certainly not, mam. Thank you, you may count on me, mam”

“Now, off with you before I change my mind.”

Darcy had no idea why he had not intervened and carried the boy to the magistrate. He took care of the poor on his land but this lad was from the other side of the village where the landlord, Sir Llewellyn, was not as lenient.   
He was somewhat impressed by how Elizabeth had managed to punish the boy while ensuring he was fed to work and keep him off poaching. Now she was headed towards him, deep in thought. He should hasten to remove himself but he suspected she might be lost so far into the woods. He could not in good conscience let a girl die on his land, no matter how vexing the girl was... He wondered when she would discover him though...

~***~

She rumbled into something solid, her initial thought was that she had stumbled into a tree but the surface was too soft. She was bone-tired after wandering the grounds for much longer than she had intended, not that she was lost. She knew where she was, just not in which direction she should turn that would lead her back to Mr Darcy's estate...   
Strong hands were holding her steady. Slowly she raised her eyes to the scarred countenance that immediately turned away.

“Will you not allow me to see you?”

“No!” His voice came out harsher than he had intended. He cursed himself for forgetting his patch at home.

She sighed and stepped away. “If you would be so kind as to point me in the right direction, Sir. I will promptly move out of your way.”

“I can do better than that, follow me.”

“You do not have to escort me all the way back to the house. I would not like to keep you from your business.”

“You have already performed my business without any input from me, I might add. I was out looking for my deer, searching for poachers...”

Elizabeth said nothing, neither did he. He turned halfway back with his good side towards his guest. She looked exhausted, lifting her feet barely off the ground with each step she took. Her head was trained on the forest floor before her feet, her shoulders slumped. It was a good thing his horse was tied nearby.

Jupiter neighed his welcome, the footfalls from behind halted abruptly. 

“I hope you have not planned that I should ride your horse, Mr Darcy?”

“No.” 

Which was not strictly a lie since his thought had been we...

The footfalls returned. Darcy deliberately slowed a few paces before he reached Jupiter. He turned quickly with his head down, grabbed the lady by the waist and hauled her up into the saddle. Her gasp hindered any retaliation by her acerbic tongue and he swiftly hoisted himself up behind her. The lady in front of him was stiff as a board. If it was him or the horse she feared the most was difficult to tell but there was no doubt she was petrified as he felt a shiver running through her person.

“This is not proper, Sir. What may people say if they saw us? They would believe we are courting.”

“Poachers?”

“The poor relish gossip as much as the rich, Sir.”

“Have you not noticed? People around her believe I am a dangerous beast, they will not dare to debase my name.”

“I have not noticed, Sir, but even if that was true, they would have no qualms about disparaging me.”

“You prefer to walk the five miles back to Pemberley then? Would you not prefer to ride until we are out of the forest? I will dismount and walk the rest of the way where we may have a greater chance of being seen. Do you seriously believe that walking beside me would create less talk than a ride, should anyone happen upon us?”

Darcy urged Jupiter into motion, the woman could not possibly walk all the way home, considering she had come to this remote location on foot. 

Elizabeth did not answer but Darcy could feel her draw a ragged breath. She was uncharacteristically quiet for the rest of the ride. He rode a little longer than he had initially intended. The shadows of the trees were growing longer which meant it was past noon and they had an assembly to attend. He would have liked to confirm the time with his watch but the darned thing rested deep in his pocket. With no spare hands, one holding the reins, the other wrapped around the slight frame in front of him, he had to trust his gut.

He dismounted when they reached the garden paths. A swift glance towards his travelling companion showed a very pale lady with firmly closed eyes. A drizzle of freckles adorned her nose, a telltale sign of disrespect towards bonnets and a fondness for the sun that was unbecoming but he was too wary to draw the usual pleasure he experienced when he found another fault in Miss Bennet. Why it was so important to discover her flaws he dared not scrutinize too closely.

Elizabeth was still clinging to the saddle, he chose to let her stay put until he reached the mounting block by the stairs. There was no reason to frighten the lady further by imposing himself upon her person.  
A figure on the stairs stole his attention from the conundrum on the horse.

“Richard, what a pleasant surprise. What brings you to my neck of the woods? Is it Georgiana? Is she well?”

A stable hand approached and Darcy threw the reins in his hands, momentarily forgetting... While he moved to greet his cousin waiting for him on the stairs, fretting anxiously about his sister’s well being.

“Whoa, one question at the time, Darcy. Georgiana is fine but are you not forgetting a little something on your horse?”

Darcy turned carefully. Elizabeth was still in the saddle, white as a ghost.

“Let me,” Richard offered. Knowing well his cousins distaste for revealing his countenance even if the fair maiden had her eyes scrunched together. He grabbed the tiny waist and lifted Elizabeth to the ground. Her feet, however, would not carry her and she crumbled to the ground. He was certain he heard her whisper: thank god but she made no effort to move.

“Do you need assistance, Miss?”

Richard gave his cousin an exasperated look. Darcy eventually caught up. It would seem he had left the barest of civilities behind somewhere in the forest. He promptly performed the introductions.

“Richard, meet Miss Bennet. She is Mr Bingley's new sister after he married Mrs Jane Bingley, nee Bennet. Miss Bennet, this my cousin, Colonel Fitzwilliam.”

“A pleasure to meet you, Colonel. I wish it was during happier circumstances but you need not distress yourself, I am quite well.”

Elizabeth rose trembling from the ground. Richard was quick to offer her his arm and escort her to the parlour where a fire was lit. Jane came hurrying along the hallway, showing great relief when she espied her sister. Darcy begged Richard to follow him when he had transferred the burden of Miss Bennet's care to her sister and led his cousin to his study. Poured a couple of thumbs of brandy in two tumblers and handed one to his cousin.

“What news, cousin?”

“All is well at Matlock, Darcy. Georgiana is coming around, she is much happier now that she is surrounded by her tittering cousin and her gaggle of giggling friends. Lord, it is like hell on earth. I have dodged three attempts of compromise in the last fortnight alone.”

“This is the company you would prefer for my sister to have as opposed to her own home and brother?”

“I am pulling your leg, Darcy. I wanted to check if you are awake because you certainly was not a moment ago...”

“I was awake, you distracted me.”

“To the point of forgetting your horse had an additional passenger? I wish I had such a profound effect on the ladies,” Richard mused in starch contrast to his previous claims.

Darcy did not bother correcting his cousin’s contradictive declarations, he had acted rudely, even he could admit it. He better make amends at the assembly.

“Your arrival is perfect as always. There is an assembly in Lambton this evening...”

“I know, Bingley informed me. And no! I will not go in your stead but I will offer you my support. Georgiana is healing, so should you.”

“Georgiana does not look like a monster nor does anyone whisper and murmur behind her back. She had a slight mishap of which she was entirely innocent while I...”

“Was to blame? When are you going to let go of your guilt? You could not have known...”

Darcy opted to glare instead of answering. It was usually more efficient but his cousin had grown immune to its effect. Vexing...

“I would hurry to secure a dance with the lovely lady before we arrive at the assembly if I were you. I fear her dance card will fill up as soon as we enter the door.”

“Miss Bennet's?”

“Yes!” Richard threw his hands in the air. “Who else?”

“I thought her,” he almost said plain but that would be rude. “Tolerably pretty but nothing out of the ordinary.”

“Lord, have you seen her eyes?”

“No...”

“You are missing out, hiding. Not only does she have the most vibrant green eyes I have ever seen but her hair is lush, so is her...” Richard made some obscene gestures with his hands pantomiming a woman’s particular curves. Her lips are begging to be kissed, her eyebrows are perfectly shaped, her nose is straight and cute. Heavens Darcy, what is not to like?”

“She has no dowry, no connections, she is impertinent and her gowns are unfashionable.”

“Does it matter for one dance at an assembly?”

“No, you are correct. It does not.”

“It would only matter if you planned to marry the girl...”

Darcy mumbled something unintelligible under his breath that sounded like a denial before he spoke up.

“Let us join the others in the parlour. I am sure the ladies will soon withdraw to ready themselves before the evening’s engagement.”

Richard smirked but followed without any more impudent remarks.

Jane glared at him when he entered, how strange. Fortunately, the ladies soon retired as predicted.


	5. An Assembly Such As This

Chapter 5 An Assembly Such as This

Darcy's stomach knotted as they approached the assembly rooms in Lambton. The friends, neighbours and acquaintances that had flocked around him since he was a young lad now shunned him. He patted his patch to make sure it was still in place after his ride and joined the party alighting from the carriage. Entering the assembly as a joined force.

The revellers stilled in all sorts of awkward positions to get a glimpse of the newcomers. You could hear a pin drop to the floor before they awoke from their stupor to resume the cacophony with a tenfold.   
He had heard it all before but his guests had not. He wondered how they would react... 

The demon is here. How dare he show his face. What's underneath the patch? Two more eyes I have heard. 

Why had he let himself be persuaded to come? Nothing good could come of this... He introduced Bingley to the master of ceremony and withdrew to a corner. The people closest to him made themselves scarce upon his arrival at his preferred location.   
He could breathe again while hiding in the shadows.   
Deep down in the recess of his mind, he believed they were right to avoid him. He was not the man they once knew. How could he be after what he had experienced? Nothing left but the shell of a man, even that was scarred beyond recognition.   
He would stay for a short while, dance his atonement dance with Elizabeth who had expressed her delight in dancing on numerous occasions. Retreat to the safety of Pemberley but he had to wait until the next set. Elizabeth was dancing with Richard. Light on her feet, elegant even...

~***~

Elizabeth had heard the whispers when they entered. Appalling suggestions and ridiculous notions seemed to be the order of the day. The gentleman was a tad unfeeling but a demon he was not. No wonder he shunned society if this was how he was treated...

She had a new mission this evening. Mr Darcy never smiled but she wanted him to smile, preferably at her which is why she had to approach him after her first set dancing with Richard had ended. Two gentlemen waylaid her to engage her but she excused herself with being engaged for the next set, hoping it would not be a lie.

He startled when she touched his arm. He had not seen her coming with the blasted patch over his eye. Strangely enough, he could still see with the eye despite its deformity.

“Would you do me the honour of dancing the next set with me, Miss Bennet?”

She made a point of looking around searching the premises.

“Are you concerned people might associate you with me? I will not be offended if you decline but I wanted to make amends for momentarily forgetting you were still in the saddle when I greeted my cousin.”

“I was just assuring myself there were no horses at the assembly, Mr Darcy. I will be honoured to dance the next set with you.”

The corner of his mouth twitched before realisation dawned on him.

He was an imbecile, a nitwit without hope of redemption. She was afraid of horses... She had been afraid of the horse, not him when they rode home. He remembered Bingley mentioning that she did not ride but he had automatically assumed it was because of her lack of education, not fear. How could she ever forgive him?

“Was that a ghost of a smile I spotted at the corner of your mouth? I take it as a challenge to tease you until you give me a full one. Then we will be even.”

He almost forgot to lead her to the floor. They were the last couple to enter the line and formed the end. The crowd gasped unanimously but Elizabeth held his one good eye captive with her uncommonly beautiful eyes. It was the first time he had looked upon her at a close distance with a tolerable good light. He had been utterly and disgracefully wrong to even think she was plain. Her countenance was not flawlessly symmetric like her sister’s but she was very pretty. In an uncommon way, he could not explain it but she sparkled like she carried a fire inside of her.

He relaxed a little when the musicians played up and the dance commenced. At least this was something he excelled at. His mother had pestered him with dance masters until he conquered his awkwardness and gracefully could lead his lady through the different sets.

The two sets flew by within a blink of an eye. Somehow he had managed to drown out the askance looks and murmured whispers during their dance and enjoy their interlude without impediments. For a brief moment of time, he had forgotten he was disfigured and despised. 

With a certain amount of reluctance, he led Elizabeth to Mr Bingley’s side who she was engaged to for the next set and retreated hastily back to his corner to observe. Elizabeth was a delight to watch as well as partner. 

The dance ended and the musicians got a well-deserved break to enjoy some refreshments when the most unwelcome sight appeared before his eyes. Where the bloody hell was Richard? Fortunately, he was protected by the shadows in his darkened corner.

~***~

“Lieutenant Wickham.” Elizabeth paid him a shallow curtsy.

“Miss Elizabeth.” Wickham bowed deeply.

“Miss Bennet to you, Lieutenant Wickham.”

“Have I offended you, Miss Bennet?”

“Not in the least, lieutenant but propriety must be followed.” Elizabeth curtsied and walked away.

The little scene had not gone unnoticed by another bystander. Grazing the outskirts of the assembled guests, he moved towards her, curiosity being the incentive for his quest. 

“Miss Bennet, a moment of your time, please. Could I persuade you to walk with me in the garden?”

Mr Darcy stepped out from the shadows and offered her his arm. She accepted and rested her hand on his offered arm.

“Certainly, Mr Darcy, lead the way.”

They walked out on to the terrace but Mr Darcy had another location in mind, a more private one. He guided his companion down the stairs, on to a path that led to a thick grove. 

“The officer I just saw you talking to, have you known him long?”

“About six or seven months, I believe. Pray, why do you ask?”

“You treated him coldly, I wondered why.”

Elizabeth let out a low unnerved chuckle.

“Am I so easily read then? That a few exchanged pleasantries reveal my true emotions?”

“Only to the ones who know you well...”

“Which you do not, Mr Darcy. We have scarcely known each other for more than a month.”

“I am an observer, Miss Bennet. I notice what others may not. You are generally pleasant to all, even me, Miss Bennet. Yet you barely curtsied to Mr Wickham and corrected him on a small misstep. I wonder why?”

“It is nothing really. I do not appreciate being the object of admiration only to be replaced by an heiress with ten thousand pounds. Oh, do not distress yourself. My heart was not touched but in the aftermath, I experienced the unpleasantness of being subjected to my neighbours’ derision. I have occasionally maid sport of my closest connections but I found it less enjoyable to be laughed at in return. I have later been informed that Miss King was rescued from lieutenant Wickham's fickle clutches by an uncle in Liverpool. I simply assured the lieutenant that I play second fiddle to none, Mr Darcy.”

“I distinctly remember hearing that you were playing the first fiddle to another suitor, still, you turned him down?”

“He proposed to my friend two days later, Mr Darcy. He can hardly be accused of any deeper admiration and much less an ardent love.”

“So that is what you seek, Miss Bennet?”

“Yes, I want a love that burns eternally, not turned towards another on a whim or for mercenary reasons. A good looking man needs something to live on as much as the plain one I suppose but not the detriment of his character. I am looking for something less inconsistent that can withstand adversary, time and wrinkled bodies.”

“Like the one the Bard spoke of.”

“Exactly!”

“Do you really believe that exists?”

“One can only hope, Mr Darcy...”

”May I offer you some advice, Miss Bennet?”

“I have a feeling I will receive it regardless so you may as well continue. What are your thoughts on my poetically described expectations of love?”

“I believe poetry to be the food of love, Miss Bennet but my advice was not one of the heart but of the mind. You should be wary of Mr Wickham, avoid him if at all possible.”

“Why?”

“I am not at liberty to say but I swear he is dangerous.”

After this shocking development in their conversation, Mr Darcy turned and led Elizabeth back to the house where his deepest worry was relived by the sight of his cousin.

“I see Richard on the terrace. Stay close to him and you will be safe.”

“Are you not coming inside, Mr Darcy.”

“No...”

Elizabeth watched Mr Darcy as he walked away before she turned and joined the Colonel. A moment later, Wickham stepped briefly onto the terrace but turned abruptly and vanished into the milling crowd inside. Elizabeth got the distinct feeling that whatever grievances Darcy had with Wickham, the Colonel was informed.   
If Mr Wickham and the Colonel's reactions towards each other were to be lent any bearing. Wickham seemed afraid of the Colonel on account of his sudden disappearance whilst the Colonel went rigid as a board at the sight of Mr Wickham. Intriguing...

“Would you allow me to escort you inside, Miss Bennet?”

“Certainly, Colonel.”

The Colonel kept her captive by pressing the arm she held against himself. He went straight to the corner Mr Darcy had previously occupied.   
Mr Darcy was not there which Elizabeth could have told him had he bothered to ask her. She heard him utter a curse under his breath while he looked frantically around himself.

“Mr Darcy has left, Colonel.”

“How do you know?”

“He told me so himself, in the garden. He warned me against lieutenant Wickham and told me to join you on the terrace. I watched him walk away and did as he instructed.”

“Was that a new experience for you?”

“Why, do you find me headstrong, Colonel? After barely a day’s acquaintance... Oh my, I am getting too predictable. Perhaps I should act completely out of character just to throw everybody off. A lady needs to retain some mystery about her person to be interesting.”

They kept up their light-hearted banter whilst patrolling the assembly both inside and outside. There was no sign of the Lieutenant anywhere, neither had Mr Darcy returned. He must have ridden his horse back to Pemberley. 

The Colonel did not let Elizabeth out of his sight for the rest of the evening. He was restless and heartily agreed when a wary Jane begged off before the last dance. Her condition adding to her fatigue.

The Colonel immediately inquired after Mr Darcy when the party entered Pemberley. He had arrived safely at home, hours ago.

~***~

The coming weeks were busy ones for the resident and his guests at Pemberley. Darcy and his cousin had eyes and ears everywhere to locate Wickham. Countless of times they were called away, just to discover another dead-end lead. 

Bingley's extended family was adding finishing touches to their new home. It was by no means finished but enough rooms had been readied to make it inhabitable whilst the rest were finalised.

Darcy woke up one morning realizing that he had not seen Bingley for days. Richard had left the previous evening after they concluded that Wickham must have returned to his regiment in Brighton. Instead of waiting weeks for the mail back and forth to arrive, Richard rode out himself. Headed for Brighton in search of Wickham.   
Darcy had decided to offer Wickham a free passage and some money to start afresh in Canada. He did not deserve it but for his own peace of mind, it was worth the expense to have him on the other side of the Atlantic. 

Free of the tiresome search for the moment, he decided to ride out to Thornbrook and see how the restorations were coming along after he had read through his correspondence.   
By noon he entered the oak adorned driveway in front of the house. Bingley was outside, overseeing some kitchen equipment being carried uninjured into the house.

“Darcy, my friend. I have not seen you in days. Have you caught the scoundrel?”

“Unfortunately not but we no longer believe he has remained in the area. Richard has left for Brighton, where his regiment is stationed, to see if he has joined them while I am at leisure to visit and see how far you have come. I scarcely recognised it from the first day we saw it. You have done a marvellous job in very little time, Bingley.”

Bingley smiled and ordered a servant to relieve him of his horse.

“Come, Darcy, you must take tea with us. We will be moving in on Thursday. The kitchen will be finished by then and that is the only thing holding us back at the moment.”

“In three days?”

The thought of losing Bingley's company was not as appealing as he would have thought. His presence had grown on him until he realised his house would yet again be quiet and empty when they left. No more giggles or unexpected encounters in his sanctuary library, peace at his meals... Darcy stifled a sigh that was not one of contentment.

Bingley and Darcy entered the house which had indeed transformed since he last had visited. The colours were light and inviting, the furnishings and decor were exhibiting an understated elegance. Yet it had a warmth even his Pemberley lacked. His pleasurable musings were interrupted by loud bickering coming from upstairs.

“You are a strange creature by way of a sister.”

“You cannot, it will ruin my surprise.”

“But I have to.”

“No, you do not. It has all been taken care of.”

“You have become rather bossy since you changed your name, Mrs Bingley.”

Bingley grinned like the besotted fool he was and lay a finger on his lips to hush him.

“They will soon make up, I have never seen two so devoted siblings before... Jane has prepared a surprise for Elizabeth in her room. I know she will be very happy once she sees it but being so independent... Giving up control is not easy.”

“Should we not try to divert them?” He could hear them huffing upstairs.

“Good thinking, Darcy. My dears, we have a visitor. Will you not come down and greet him?”

Jane descended first, her serene expression never wavering. Elizabeth came stumping after her but smiled when she thought she could be seen.

“I need Jane's opinion on an alteration in the kitchen, Elizabeth. Could you take Darcy for a stroll in the garden while we sort out a few things? It is a lovely day. May I suggest we take the tea outside?”

“A delightful idea, Charles. Elizabeth do you mind?”

“I will happily show the garden to Mr Darcy.”

Darcy did not mind the scheme and offered Elizabeth his arm. They strolled down the garden path which did not take long. Thornbrook had a small park but the fields unfurled beyond.

“I need to stretch my legs after being cramped up inside for so long. Would you mind a little longer route than just the garden, Mr Darcy? I can deal with serene pliable Jane but serene strong-headed Jane is grating on my nerves...”

“A little distance for a few minutes usually does the trick with me and my sister when the company becomes grating. Let us walk the outskirts of the fields. I would like to see how far Bingley has come with the fencing...”

A comfortable silence stretched between them as they strolled leisurely along the path. Neither felt the need to always fill the lull with inane conversation. If they had nothing to say, both preferred to remain silent.

As they approached the wooded land, faint tones from a fiddle wafted through the trees.

“Did you hear that, Mr Darcy?”

“I believe someone is celebrating, it must be Bingley's tenants.”

“Should we not investigate?”

“I doubt it will be a company fit for a gently bred lady, Miss Bennet.”

“I am a gentleman's daughter but I am country born and bred. I have witnessed Longbourn's tenants celebrate on the odd occasion and I have suffered no ill effects. I dare say I can brave a few of Derbyshire's farmhands.”

Elizabeth pulled him along towards the sound, not that he objected much until they were closing in on the revellers. What if they rejected him or worse, chased him out of the forest? He was of a strong constitution but no one could be expected to take on more than a couple of men at the time. What if they attacked Elizabeth?

They were in the clearing before he could make up his mind. There were perhaps twenty people gathered around a bonfire. Dancing to the tune a couple of fiddlers. Women, children and a few men...

A young lad approached Elizabeth, up close he looked familiar. It was Joe, the little poacher Elizabeth had offered a position.

“Will ye dance wi' me, fair lady?”

Joe offered his hand but before Elizabeth could answer a grown woman, quite possibly his mother, swatted his head and dragged him away.

“She ain’t dancing wi' the likes of ye. His lordship may take ‘er for a swing but ye ain’t. Pardon my son, Miss.”

“Do not distress yourself, it was kindly meant. You have a fine boy, Mrs Cole.”

“Thank ye, Miss. ‘is done me proud ‘e ‘as...”

“Shall we?” A sudden impulse had made Mr Darcy offer Elizabeth his hand. None had seemed to notice him in particular, most of them he recognized as Bingley's men and he suddenly felt the urge to dance a reel. Like he had done so many times before at Pemberley's harvest festival...  
The thought sobered him but Elizabeth had taken his hand and was smiling up at him with twinkling eyes. He could not, would not, disappoint her.

Cheers and whistles followed them to the centre of the clearing, others followed them to participate. Soon they were enough to gather in a ring and dance to the somewhat sour fiddle tunes. It did not matter.   
People were laughing and singing along. A bottle of gin was being passed around. Darcy tried to prevent it but Elizabeth took a sip. She winked at him and explained at the first opportunity that she had only pretended. She did not like spirits, not even sherry and preferred her wine watered-down but had feigned drinking not to offend the revellers. 

Too soon they bid their farewells and hurried back to Thornbrook and a worried Jane.

“Pardon us, Jane. It was my fault. I made Mr Darcy dance a reel.”

Jane laughed and all memories of their tardiness disappeared with the tea and biscuits being served in front of them.


	6. Rumours And Recklessness

Chapter 6 Rumours and Recklessness.

Bingley's carriage disappeared around the bend. He was once more the sole occupant of Pemberley but there was no relief following his desired solitude, only emptiness. How was he to occupy his time? No words had come from Richard, neither could he expect it for a few more days.   
It almost made him regret that he did not accompany Richard on his southward travels.   
He sighed and retreated back to his beloved study and picked up a new book he had recently ordered from Hatchard's. Reading the first sentence over and over again...

Three sharp raps on his door brought Mr Darcy out of his wool-gathering.

“Enter!”

His equerry entered, wringing his cap in his hands.

“Jupiter has taken ill, Sir.”

Darcy jumped to his feet, pulling on his patch as he approached his stable master.

“How ill? Why? What has been done?”

“He is not too bad but I will show you why and everything is being done to keep him comfortable... Have you noticed lately that he has been a little unsteady and yawning a lot?”

“Not really but I have not ridden him for three days.”

He had, for some unexplainable reason, not wanted to be away for several hours. 

“This morning he went colicky while searching his bedding, I found ragwort...”

“I thought it too bitter to tempt the horses to eat it.”

“Not when it has been dried.”

“Do you believe our feed is contaminated? Could all the horses be at risk.”

“Absolutely not, Sir. I have checked what we have which isn’t much at this time of the year. The horses are out on the pastures, there is enough fresh grass for all of them. There is no need to add hay which makes me believe it must be deliberate, Sir...”

“Do you suspect anyone in particular?”

“No, Sir, but I doubt he'd be from Pemberley but for Jupiter to have so many symptoms, I believe he must have had it for a good while. A little doesn’t seem to affect them. He must have been supplied with it over an extensive period of time.”

Probably one of the locals then... Darcy wished he had words from Richard that Wickham was safely in Brighton. He would not put it past him to punish an innocent animal for perceived grievances from the owner but there were other possibilities. Any of the locals regarding him as a beast could have injured his horse to prevent him from getting around or force him to hide in a carriage. Poachers came to mind...

“We need to guard the stables at night, do you have enough men or do I need to hire more?”

“We will make do with what we got, Sir.”

~***~

Elizabeth and Jane were heading for Lambton. They needed some fabric to make tiny garments for the bundle of joy the Bingleys expected in December. Not that there was any rush in June but the occupation was a pleasant one and greatly looked forward to by the two sisters.  
Another recently developed incentive was the arrival of another sister. Miss Caroline had descended upon them after Jane had misspoken and mentioned their sojourn at Pemberley in one of her letters. Caroline had immediately set out for the north, escorted by her older sister and her sister’s husband.   
They had arrived too late. The party had removed from Pemberley and their driver had received directions to Thornbrook.   
They were now cramped together in the few rooms that were inhabitable which was some cause for friction between the ladies. Elizabeth did not believe it was good for an expecting mother to be subjected to the bickering that followed.   
It was she who had suggested this outing which Jane had heartily accepted. 

With little chance of encountering Mr Darcy, Caroline had begged off. She was still oblivious to Mr Darcy's injuries. To her, he was the most handsome man in all of England which was not likely to change, injuries or not. Caroline’s ambitions tended more towards wealth than physical attraction...

Arriving at Lambton, they strolled down the main street. Merchants had arrived in town with their carts filled with goods for sale. Fish from the river Derwent, grains, seeds, jewellery, glassware, kitchen utensils, porcelain, the offerings were bountiful and the sisters enjoyed perusing the objects before they went to the haberdasher. 

Jane was haggling over a hair comb when Elizabeth grew conscious of her surroundings. Whispers and clandestine looks of derision were frequently aimed at herself. Strange... 

She spent an otherwise enjoyable day in pleasant pursuits with her sister. Few locals dared approach them, they were still new to the area and were regarded with some ingrained suspicion towards strangers. Time would amend that, Elizabeth surmised as they spent their last few minutes taking tea at the Inn. The clientele was somewhat of a mixed company with workers having an ale after a day in the fields, mixed with the landed gentry of the lower realms. One particular lady caught Elizabeth’s notice. She had rouge on her cheeks and a heart-shaped mole that must have been painted on. She was dressed to the nines for an ordinary weekday which made Elizabeth suspect her occupation to be of a peculiar kind. She seemed on friendly terms with everyone, particular one young lad, Elizabeth recognized as an employee of Mr Darcy.   
The lad had come to take care of Mr Darcy’s horse after the eventful ride through the forest.   
After looking through the patronages at the inn, without locating Mr Darcy who must be on an errand somewhere else, her attention returned to the painted lady.  
There was no denying she was beautiful but she kept sending Elizabeth covert glances and the lad was significantly younger. He could hold no real appeal to the lady, toying with a besotted youngster did not recommend her to Elizabeth, it made her uneasy. In Meryton, there were wenches at the inn that offered favours but they were serving food, not idling about with nothing to do but to entertain. Elizabeth felt some concern for the lady as well but she somehow did not seem to be in need of her pity.

~***~

Joe was toiling over the herbs when they got back.

“Go home, Joe. Your day is over, it is time for leisure.”

“ ’ave ye met Mr Darcy?”

“No, is he here?”

“No, I thought you might ‘ave gone to visit.”

“My sister and I have been shopping in the village, Joe. We have not been to Pemberley. It would be the height of bad manners to visit so soon after we have left. The gentleman deserves his house to himself after entertaining for so long.”

“I thought ‘e might not mind a visit from ye, mam.”

“Why would you say that?”

“Are ye not promised to him?”

Elizabeth impulsively burst out laughing at the outrageous notion.

“No, definitely not. What makes you think that? Oh, the dance at the bonfire. I can assure you that the thought of dancing had not crossed Mr Darcy's mind had he not been coerced into it. I have from the horse’s mouth itself that he does not enjoy dancing.”

She should probably not call Mr Darcy a horse but the lad did not seem to have noticed. She better watch her tongue more judiciously, just as her mother had lamented more than once.

“It’s not that, mam. The villagers say...”

“What do they say, Joe?” The amusement in her tone had left and had been replaced with concern.

Joe looked forlorn at the path leading to Lambton. Obviously reluctant to speak of what he knew.

“Please, Joe. I would not have asked if I would not like to know.”

“That you ‘ave been seen riding wi’ him on ‘is horse, dancing wi’ ‘im at the ball and strolling alone in the garden of the assembly. I ‘avn’t ‘eard about no reel t’ough.”

Which all was true but seen together, without knowing the circumstances, might be an object for misinterpretation. It seemed like Bingleys farmhands were reliable while the same could not be said for the inhabitants of Lambton.

“Thank you, Joe. I am glad you told me but it is not as it seems. It is true that I rode back to Pemberley with Mr Darcy, on the day I caught you poaching. I was lost and far away from the house. I was too tired to walk home and Mr Darcy kindly offered me to share his horse.”

“Did Mr Darcy see me in t’woods?”

“I believe he did, Joe. I also believe he overheard our conversation.”

“Then why ‘as ‘e not brought me to the magistrate?”

“Because Mr Darcy is not a cruel man. He saw that you were young and has since behaved impeccably. He is not unfeeling towards your plight, supporting your mother and sisters.”

“Thank you, mam. I'll be off then?”

“Goodbye, Joe.”

Elizabeth strolled contentedly into the house or the lion’s den as she had begun referring to it.   
Joe would explain the circumstances to the villagers and all would be set to rights, with time.   
The claws of Caroline Bingley awaited. It was most unbecoming how she tried to fret out Elizabeth for information about a certain gentleman from the area.

~***~

Jupiter was growing weaker by the day. His colic had abated but he was now drifting in and out of consciousness.

“Send for the veterinarian.” 

He demanded of his equerry who set out immediately for Nottingham where a renowned veterinary resided.   
Darcy dwelled by Jupiter's side, night and day. Taking the few morsels he afforded himself in the stables. Jupiter had been a gift from his father on his eighteenth birthday. He represented a time when life was easy, although he had not known it back then... 

The news was not good when his equerry returned in the evening. The veterinarian had refused to come. Rumours about Mr Darcy had long since reached Nottingham.  
It mattered not, by all accounts it was too late. Jupiter breathed his last breath with his head resting in Mr Darcy's lap, later that night.

Exhausted, Darcy retired to his own bed and slept dreamlessly until the news of an express rider woke him up in the wee hours of the morning.

~***~

Someone was pounding on the kitchen entrance, Elizabeth happened to be there alone, brewing herself a cup of tea to escape Caroline's company. Jane and Charles had gone to Lambton and could not act as intermediates.

Perhaps Mr Darcy had finally come to visit, several days had passed since they left Pemberley. She guessed she had gotten used to his presence. Besides, she had an important message to relate to him. Patting down a few wayward curls, she hurried along to answer the door.

“I am coming,” she called.

Outside stood a dishevelled and distressed Mrs Cole. Elizabeth fought hard to conceal her disappointment.

“May I be of service to you, Mrs Cole?”

“It’s Joe, mam. ‘e was found in a ditch, ‘alf beat'n to death. If nought be done the fe’er will do the rest.”

“Let me fetch the willow bark and I will come with you.”

“I cannot ask ye, mam.”

“You are not, I am offering.”

Elizabeth gathered the herb and some edibles, a bottle of wine and some strong brandy. The ladies hastened to the small, drafty shed the Coles called their home. The leaky roof had been mended but there was still only a dirt floor inside.

Elizabeth flinched when she saw the beaten body. Joe had a black eye, cuts and scrapes all over. Fevered sweat ran across his temple.

“We need to clean his wounds with water then rinse it with brandy. Put some water on the fire.”

Elizabeth sent Joe's seven-year-old sister Jean back to Thornbrook for more clean cloth. In the meantime, she sacrificed one of her petticoats to get started on cleaning up his face.   
Joe tossed and turned, muttering nonsensical things about the devil.

Two days she watched over him in turns with his mother and sisters. Youth eventually prevailed and his fever broke one morning after the sun had just risen above the horizon.   
They all breathed a sigh of relief until he started to relate what had happened to him. Defending Elizabeth against the rumours about her association with the devil, he had been attacked rather than believed. Accused of being the demons own spawn.

This had blown out of proportions. Something had to be done but what?  
Elizabeth was out of her depth. Bingley could help but it was important that Darcy did not happen upon the mob alone and unprepared...  
She begged Bingley to write him a note, urgently requesting his presence at Thornbrook.

~***~

Darcy dressed in a hurry, waving off his trusted valet and met the rider in his study.

“Message from Colonel Fitzwilliam, Sir.”

Darcy read the disturbing news. Richard had reached Brighton too late, Lieutenant Wickham was no longer there. He had left, taking a gentleman's daughter with him to an unknown location. Needless to say, they were not married when they left nor were they likely to get married as the lady in question had little to tempt Mr Wickham. The name added at the bottom of the letter made his blood freeze. Lydia Bennet of Longbourn, Hertfordshire...

He rang the bell and ordered the carriage. He no longer had a horse to ride...  
He would pack the necessary and be off within half an hour. A brief glance at his desk revealed a letter from Thornbrook at the top of his personal correspondence.   
Probably an invitation, Caroline had arrived and her appetite for society was well known to him. At least he would no longer be one of her targets when she caught the sight of him as he stood now. It would have to wait though. Chances were slim he would have the opportunity to attend. It was of no importance compared to the task before him.

He left the letter where it lay and grabbed the stack of business letters he had to bring with him. The thought of his first sojourn to London since his injuries was unappealing but it could not be helped. Leaving instructions to his staff to forward everything of importance to his townhouse in London, Mr Darcy left Pemberley...


	7. Damsel In Distress

Chapter 7 A Damsel in Distress 

Darcy concealed his eye behind the patch, pulled his hat down over his brows and alighted from his carriage. The Darcy townhouse loomed in front of him, a merry looking building in white with flowers blooming in abundance. His mood, however, did not lighten until Richard came out to greet him. They shook hands and strode into the foyer. His servants lurked in the background, not sure what to make of his sudden appearance after a so long absence.

The butler finally came forward to take his hat and coat. Years of training prevented him from flinching as his scars were revealed. Darcy relaxed and followed his cousin to his study.

“Have you found them?” 

“No, there are rumours he has been in London but I have not heard anything new in days.   
There is no trace of him beyond London either.   
I have sent a couple of men out to check the inns leading north but they have come up with nothing. According to my source in Brighton, the girl left a note for Colonel Foster’s wife where she claimed they were headed for Gretna Green but I found nothing to support it. I have placed lookouts at his usual haunts but there have been no sightings of him, yet...”

“What about Mrs Young’s establishment?”

“Hell and damnation, I should have thought of that. Shall we pay the lady a visit after supper?”

“Some things never change, always thinking with your stomach...”

“Not at all, bats are night creatures. They do not come out before its dark.”

“Ha!”

“I am deeply wounded, cousin. Shall we eat?”

Fed and rested the two readied themselves for a night out in London. It would not serve their purpose to be too finely dressed so they both donned their more threadbare attire. Old rags that did not scream wealth to every pickpocket and footpad in town.

Mrs Young's boarding house for young ladies was situated on Edward Street in the seedier part of town. Her patrons were not the wealthy but ordinary workers mixed with blaggards who had a shilling to spare on her young residents.  
Mrs Young had fallen deep since her career as a lady's companion had crumbled by her own violation.

“I hope Wickham has not sold her to Mrs Young...”

“I would not put it past him...”

The revellers were deep in their cups when Darcy and Richard entered Mrs Young's sparsely lit parlour. Half dressed girls with heavily painted faces entertained the menfolk. Cheap ale was handed out in abundance for a few shillings, smoke lay heavy in the air, making it difficult to locate the matron. The once respectable if rather tired-looking boarding house had changed into an altogether different kind of business. 

“We'll be out of here quicker if we spread out. You take the left, I will take the right side of the room and we will meet in the middle at the back.”

Darcy nodded to his cousin. Satisfied with taking the left side of the room leaving his good eye to watch the boisterous crowd. A young girl, barely the age of his sister whispered lewd suggestions in his ear. He shrugged her off and approached the bar to order an ale. Anything stronger would muddle his senses and he needed every one of those to stay alert with his impediment.   
Someone was tapping him on the shoulder, he turned an ear towards the person.

“You cannot wear your hat inside, Sir.”

Darcy turned in full, Mrs Young gasped when she realized who he was and almost fainted when he removed his hat. The patch was on but he did not mind her seeing the scars the faithful night had given him.

“Excuse my insolence, Mrs Young, but I believe it is obvious why I kept my hat on. I came here to see you though... I wondered if you have had any word from Wickham lately? I am prepared to make it profitable for you.”

“You can save your shillings, I haven’t had a word from him since your cousin cruelly evicted me from your house in Ramsgate.”

“I was not speaking about shillings...” He held a gold sovereign between two fingers and showed it to Mrs Young, obstructing it from view of the other guests.

“Doesn’t matter, he ain’t here.”

“Would you contact me at Darcy house if he does give word?”

“Maybe, maybe not...”

The woman was as infuriating as ever. What delight he might feel, wringing her neck... If she was really obtuse or playing with him was impossible to tell but her downfall in the world was evident. 

“I have a lucrative proposition for him. He would want to see me.”

Mrs Young eyed him suspiciously.

“Why do I doubt that?”

A couple of drunken sailors raised their glasses and sang a shanty as Mrs Young sauntered away to work the room. Making sure every man that left for the upstairs, paid her fee. Richard joined him but he had no news either. 

“I had high hopes for this evening but finding a man in a city of a million people, that do not want to be found, is proving more difficult than I imagined.”

“Patience, Richard. We will put a lookout here and gather our wits to think of other locations he might be at.”

They walked the streets of Cheapside, a relatively safe place during the daylight hours but the rats came out at night.

“I just remembered, the Bennets have an uncle over on Gracechurch Street.”

“I hope you are not suggesting we pay him a visit, Darcy?”

“Not now, you dolt head. Tomorrow morning.”

“Do you think they will reveal family secrets to two total strangers?”

“I am Mr Bingley's trusted friend and you are representing the crown's quest for Wickham. It is worth a try.”

Richard agreed and they set out for Gracechurch street the next morning.

The Gardiners lived in a well-appointed house of some size. Mr Gardiner was obviously doing very well for himself.  
A manservant opened the door, confirming Darcy’s first impression of wealth, accepted their cards and went to see if his master could receive them. They needed not to wait long.

“This way gentlemen.”

The Colonel was in regimentals for the occasion while Darcy wore his regular attire. To their surprise, they were not shown in a study but a parlour where a gentleman, a lady and brood of young children were having tea. 

A maid entered a moment later and shooed most of the children out of the parlour, only a young girl remained. Darcy and the Colonel took the seats offered while Mr Gardiner introduced them to the ladies.   
Not surprisingly, the lady in her mid-thirties was his wife but Darcy could hardly conceal his surprise when the eldest child, who had been allowed to remain, was presented to him as none other than Miss Lydia Bennet. He collected himself as he waited for the appalling looks and whispered atrocities but none were forthcoming.

“What news do you have of my nieces in Derbyshire, Mr Darcy? I suppose that is the reason for this call?”

“They have moved into Thornbrook Hall and the renovations are going splendidly. Your niece has excellent taste, Mr Gardiner.”

“Oh la, Jane should have sent for me. I have much better taste.” Lydia Bennet bragged unabashed.

“I admit I am surprised to see you, Miss Lydia. Rapports of another nature reached me at Pemberley. I set out for London with the intention of being of aid to my friend's family. I can see you have no use for my services but I do wonder if you have some information I need.”

“Certainly, Mr Darcy.” Lydia fluttered her lashes but her gaze was turned towards his cousin, minding very little to be in the centre of attention.

“I would be interested to hear what rapports you have had, Mr Darcy.” Mr Gardiner inquired soberly.

“I am searching for a lieutenant Wickham. I have a business proposition for him but I have to locate him before I can make it. My cousin, Colonel Fitzwilliam, was recently in Brighton where Wickham is stationed but he had left...” 

Darcy deliberately did not elaborate. He would sorely make accusations that might have him thrown out of the house before his task had been completed. The child might have information that could be of use.

“Have the living you denied him become vacant?” 

Or maybe not... It would serve him right to be circumspect if the girl had already been poisoned against him. His looks no longer did him any favours. In the end, he answered as bluntly as was his want.

“Not exactly. The living you are referring to was not to lieutenant Wickham's liking, he has no taste for sermon making. He forfeited the position, preferring three thousand pounds in lieu of its value.”

“Of which I am very grateful, Mr Darcy. It is my younger brother who has the living in Kympton.” Mrs Gardiner sent a disapproving glare towards her impertinent niece which was blatantly overlooked.

“He is an excellent man, Mrs Gardiner,” Darcy replied genuinely. 

Lydia was not one to let the attention stray off her for long. “I wonder who your informant was, Mr Darcy, because he is obviously misinformed. Lieutenant Wickham left his regiment before we went to Brighton. He vanished on the day the militia relocated from my hometown of Meryton. I thought he had eloped with the freckled little thing, Miss Mary King, but Kitty wrote in her last letter that she has moved to Liverpool to live with her uncle. I never understood what he saw in her. He courted my sister, Elizabeth, first you know but the ice queen was not impressed. She will never marry unlike me...” Lydia smiled coquettishly at the Colonel who had the decency to avert his eyes. Miss Lydia was brazen but with an undertow of innocence rather than experience.

“I wonder if I could entice the gentlemen with a tumbler of port and cigars in my study?”

“Most certainly, Mr Gardiner. Your niece told me you were in the import business. I look forward to taste your goods.”

Mr Gardiner led on, leaving a serene Mrs Gardiner and a sulking Lydia behind.

~***~

What was keeping Mr Darcy? Surely the rumours must have reached him as well as the missive she had persuaded Mr Bingley to send. She wished she could go to Pemberley herself. Something was definitely amiss.   
Mr Darcy seemed like a dutiful man. Perhaps he was used to such slander and had decided to pay it no heed? Elizabeth, however, needed to grow a thicker skin. 

Mr Bingley had another way of approaching the debacle. Shillings and Guineas spoke their own language. He made sure they visited Lambton often, purchasing something from many merchants to strengthen their position. Not many would bite the hand that fed them but as a safety measure, they were accompanied by two armed footmen.

Joe was recovering from his ordeal, the fever had left him weak but good nourishment and rest should restore his strength.  
Elizabeth gathered fresh fruit, bread and wine in a basket to bring to him while he recovered. She felt obligated to provide for the young lad who had suffered so cruelly, defending her honour.

“Where are you heading to?” Mr Bingley had caught her sneaking out of the house.

“I am showing my gratitude to Joe by offering a few edibles that might aid his recovery.”

“You should bring a footman.”

“To the end of the garden? He may stand outside and watch my progress but do not ask me to bring a footman to Mrs Cole. It would reek of distrust.”

“As long as you do not venture any further...”

“Thank you, Mr Bingley.”

“It is Mrs Cole who should thank me,” Bingley muttered as he walked away shaking his head.

Mrs Cole was in an uproar when Elizabeth arrived at their hovel.   
During the night, both her young daughters had caught the fever that had wrecked her son’s body a few days earlier. Elizabeth could not in good conscience leave her with three patients to care for on her own. She went to the well and fetched more water to cool their heated little bodies.   
It was nightfall before Elizabeth arrived back at the house. Mrs Cole had one less mouth to feed, not that it brought her any pleasure. Her youngest had succumbed an hour ago whilst the eldest seemed a little bit better.

Elizabeth had been released by a scullery maid who had finished her chores for the day.   
She wanted nothing more than to curl up in her bed but first, she must inform Mr Bingley of the day’s events.  
Unconcerned about her bedraggled looks, she entered the parlour where Caroline was entertaining on the pianoforte. Catching sight of Elizabeth, her hands froze in mid-air while she gawked unbecomingly.

“What on earth happened to you?” Caroline sneered when she regained her ability to speak. Elizabeth overlooked her comment and addressed Bingley.

“Charles, Mrs Cole's daughters have caught the fever. I am afraid we were not able to save the youngest but the elder is a little bit better. I was released by the scullery maid and she told me that there are several in the village that is similarly inflicted.”

“You have been tending a sick ragamuffin? What if she has the putrid throat?” Caroline was appalled.

Elizabeth continued to ignore her to the advantage of her sensible brother. The child neither coughed nor had she any rashes on her body, this was not the putrid throat. 

“Perhaps you could send for the apothecary, Charles?”

“You are right, of course, I will send for him directly so that we can get an overview of the extent it has spread.”

“Thank you, Cha....” Elizabeth was rudely interrupted.

“Are you out of your mind, coming in here, spreading the ill humours amongst the family?”

“You are right, Caroline. I will retire promptly.”

“And do not come back until you are absolutely certain you have not taken ill.”

Elizabeth just nodded. She had to admit that Caroline had a point. Jane was not in a condition to risk growing ill with a raging fever.

~***~

Mr Gardiner's demeanour changed significantly as soon as the door to his study had closed. He gestured for them to sit and provided the promised fortification before he bore his gaze into Mr Darcy.

“What have you heard?”

“It was said in Brighton that lieutenant Wickham had left his station with a young lady called Lydia Bennet who resided with a Colonel Forster.

“She is a bloody fool... Lydia had word from Kitty that Wickham had not eloped with Miss King but had gone to London. Lydia thought it a great lark to jump on the mail coach to London to find him under the pretence of visiting us. She left a note on her nightstand, addressed to Mrs Foster, stating her fervent wish of becoming Mrs Wickham by a detour to Gretna Green which will never come to pass if I have any say in it.   
My wife hails from Lambton, as you are aware of. She knows something of his reputation... I feel it incumbent upon me to remind you that what I now tell you is under the strictest confidence. I have heard stellar reports about you both or I would not have discussed this so openly.”

“I must remember to thank Bingley when I see him next.” Mr Darcy replied to the comment.

“The report did not come from Mr Bingley but someone I have the utmost confidence in her ability to judge character. What can be done with the rumours?”

“Diverting the gossip to something else usually helps,” the Colonel offered.

Darcy thought of what could be done. The most injurious to Miss Lydia was if the gossip had spread to Meryton. Brighton was of less consequence, a letter to Colonel Foster would probably suffice while she was of next to no importance in London's society. Few would bother to engage in tattling about a family they had not even heard of.

“What if we travelled to Longbourn? It could be done in a day.   
I could visit Mr Bennet with a message from Bingley. We bring Lydia home, take a stroll in the market, talking loudly about her visit to you in London. Add a few complaints and a couple of unfavourable comparisons between what is on offer in Cheapside versus Meryton should do the trick.”

He thought of another reason... People would notice his disfigurement and their attention towards Lydia would be to gather information about how his injuries had been obtained rather than her early return from Brighton. In his experience, his injuries tended to take precedence over every other topic amongst the tattlers. Lydia would be in the centre of attention but for a less damaging reason.

~***~

It was of little comfort to escape the crowded carriage to be subjected to rude stares and unsubtle whispers had it not been for the redemptive purpose.   
Despite how little the child deserved it, tittering with her acquaintances at his expense. He was, however, intrigued by the prospect of meeting Mr Bennet. Elizabeth’s father... She had long since lost her formal address in his private thoughts.

It was Mrs Bennet who welcomed them at Longbourn. Mr Bennet took his time, coming to greet them but immediately redeemed himself by leading them promptly to his book-room.   
Shelves lined the walls with countless rare tomes, some Mr Darcy would have liked to add to his own collection at Pemberley.

“You have a fine collection here, Mr Bennet.”

The patriarch nodded and offered them a seat. Pleasantries were exchanged, Darcy shared some news of the Bingleys household, skirting around the object at hand.

“Who did this to you?” Darcy immediately knew what Mr Bennet was referring to. For once in his life, he felt like being forthcoming about his injuries.

“Wickham.”

“Did he take out your eye as well?”

“No, I wear the patch because it is unpleasant to look upon. Not because of any malfunction. Has anyone seen Wickham in the area, lately?”

“There is nothing for him here. Mary King's uncle spirited her off to Liverpool as soon as he was appraised about the situation.”

“Did you send for him, Mr Bennet?”

“I did...”

Not much more of importance was said. It was not necessary, everyone understood their own role. Soon after they departed for London, delivered Mr Gardiner at his home and retreated to Darcy house.

“My buttocks are killing me after so many hours in the carriage. You should send for Jupiter. We could ride instead of being cooped up in a carriage.”

Mr Darcy's face fell, he had not thought about his beloved mount for days.

“I cannot. He died the night before I left Pemberley of Ragwort poisoning.”

“Horses do not like ragwort, it is too bitter tasting to tempt them.”

“Not when they have been dried...”

“Someone poisoned him?”

“Most likely. I checked the leftover hay and there was no sign of ragwort in it, not that I feed him hay when there is fresh grass to be had.”

“Hell and damnation, he must still be in the North.”

“Who did you speak to in Brighton?”

“Captain Denny, since he is the younger son of Sir Llewellyn and known to you. I thought he might know of Wickham.”

“Denny is Wickham's friend, not mine.”

“Hell and damnation, we should travel north at daybreak.”

Darcy nodded, an image of Elizabeth flitted unbidden through his mind.

~***~

“Mr Darcy and Colonel Richard to see you, Sir.”

“Send them in.”

Darcy waited until the door closed behind Bingley's butler before he addressed his friend.

“I am so sorry I did not read your note until yesterday when Richard and I came back from London. How is Elizabeth, err, Miss Bennet?” Darcy silently cursed his wayward tongue. No more Elizabeth, even in his thoughts. Her name Miss Bennet, she had done nothing to earn his disrespect.

“Up to mischief, as usual. Currently, she is abed with an abating fever, her maid assures me that she is on the mend.”

“Yes, Mrs Reynolds told me that fever has broken out in the village. Several have suffered losses.”

Darcy yearned to inquire more thoroughly about Elizabeth’s health but with his little mishap only moments ago, he felt it might send the wrong signal or worse, the right one.

“Yes, Mrs Cole's youngest perished despite receiving loving care from none other than Elizabeth. I tried to stop her from going but I am beginning to believe Mrs Bennet was right. She is headstrong and obstinate...”

“Because she tended one of your tenants?” Darcy asked incredulously.

“No, because she took the risk of bringing sickness to our house while Jane is in a delicate condition. I have made sure that Jane did not tend her. It has been difficult, to put it mildly.   
Jane fell ill at Netherfield after being caught in a downpour, riding over to have dinner with my sisters. Elizabeth nursed her back to health, Jane would have preferred to repay the service. I had to convince her it would not be wise. The sisters share a very tightly knitted bond, to come between them is nigh on impossible.”

“As it should be, Bingley, but what about the other matter? The urgent issue you mentioned in your note.”

“May we visit as soon as Elizabeth is back on her feet? In a few days or if she has her way, tomorrow? It is difficult to make any decisions without her input as she has a greater knowledge of the sordid debacle. I have kept my distance as well, to prevent the fever from spreading to Jane...”

Darcy's well-known frown appeared between his brows. Had Elizabeth been tended by staff only? He could not imagine Miss Bingley making an effort. He should have been at home, he could have cared for her... No, definitely not but Mrs Reynolds was a lady of great understanding. He would have trusted Mrs Reynolds...

“Yes, would you mind if I invited Elizabeth to take a stroll with me, nothing taxing, when you arrive? We need to discuss this new development...” He did not even notice his lack of formal address this time.

“Of course, perhaps you can talk some sense into her and persuade her to take better care of herself?”

Darcy smiled at the thought, not very likely but Bingley was allowed to make a wish.

~***~

Upstairs, Elizabeth was unaware they were having a visitor. She had fallen into a restless sleep, plagued by a nightmare...

The wolves closed in on her, snapping their canine teeth at the hem of her gown as she twirled around, fighting off attackers from every direction.   
She was trapped, surrounded by salivating hungry beasts. She heartily regretted venturing so deep into the woods.   
Horse hooves, pounding the earth, could be heard approaching. ‘Dear Lord, not horses too!’ Elizabeth imagined the giant beasts joining the wolves closing in on her. She frantically searched the ground for a stick or a rock, something she could use to defend herself when someone grabbed her from behind and hoisted her up in the air. She landed on a black beast with a massive arm pinning her to the beasts back. 

“The wolves!” she warned. 

“Do not worry, my horse will outrun them.” 

She turned to see her saviour but he had no face, just a shadow that the deep voice emanated from. The beast underneath her turned white and grew wings. They were flying high up in the air, the wolves' howling grew distant before it disappeared.   
They eventually landed in a rose garden, Elizabeth was gently put down on a bench before her rescuer returned to his horse. 

“You cannot leave me here alone,” she pleaded. Not knowing if the wolves had had the opportunity to follow them or not. 

“They cannot reach you here, it is perfectly safe.” 

Elizabeth looked around herself, the garden was surrounded by massive brick walls. On a table, tea and pastries beckoned her empty stomach while a soft-looking bed under a rose arch could be discerned beyond the table, tempting her exhausted self even more than the delicious edibles. She turned back, her rescuer had mounted his horse who had resumed his white coat and wings. 

“Are you leaving me? You cannot leave me here, I do not know where I am,” she begged.

“You are home,” the entity answered. 

“But, what about you?”

“I have to chase away the wolves before they reach my deer.”

“You might get killed!”

“No, the wolves fear me.”

The equipage lifted into the air, with a final wave, they disappeared behind the garden walls. Elizabeth was left bereft.

Elizabeth jolted out of her dream. Soaked in sweat she rose from her bed and paced the floor of her chamber. ‘What could it mean?’ Elizabeth had been plagued with nightmares since she was a child. She usually tried not to think about them after she woke up because it threw her off-kilter for the rest of the day. She could not explain why she, in this instant, was striving to remember every detail.


	8. Revelation

Chapter 8 Revelation 

Caroline had whined her way into the carriage heading for Pemberley. Bingley used the entire ride to prepare his sister for the change in Mr Darcy's appearance but Caroline waved it off as an insignificant detail, not worthy of her notice.

It became obvious that what might be deemed insignificant at a distance was not so trivial in close proximity. Caroline Bingley gasped as soon as she entered Pemberley’s parlour and fainted dead away at the sight of Mr Darcy. A lump formed on her forehead as evidence of her unfriendly meeting with a table on her descend from an upright position. Smelling salts were provided promptly by Mrs Reynolds who escorted a very befuddled Caroline to a chamber to rest. Bingley and Jane were being entertained by the Colonel when Darcy made his move towards Elizabeth.

“Could you be persuaded to engage in a leisurely stroll around the lake with me, Miss Bennet? I am aware of your recent indisposition, I promise to set my pace accordingly.”

In fact, he would not mind if she became a little bit fatigued. He could carry her back to the house... Darcy took a fortifying breath, these unruly thoughts would not serve him.

“It would be my pleasure, Mr Darcy.”

Elizabeth had a particular way of pronouncing his name. Making it sound more like a caress than an appellation.

He offered her his arm which she took, resting her dainty hand lightly on his forearm. They strolled towards the lake in silence. Darcy wanted them out of earshot from the servants before he addressed the distasteful matter at hand but Elizabeth beat him to it.

“I believe I know the purpose of our stroll. I suspect you have read Charles letter and heard the rumours spreading through the village like the plague. What shall we do about it, Mr Darcy?”

“I will not be forced to marry anyone for convenience, neither will I marry anyone because of a falsely alleged compromise or fear...”

Elizabeth’s heart sank, it was too much to expect. He was probably holding out for the one lady that would imbed herself in his heart for all eternity.

“You cannot want to marry such a man as myself...”

“What kind of man is that, Mr Darcy?”

“A disfigured one.”

“Will you not show me your face, Mr Darcy? All of it...”

Of all things, that was the last request he would have expected. 

“I do not want you to be afraid of me.”

“Can you not tell that I am not?”

“You have not seen the worst, only the burns on my cheek and the scar.”

“What else are there to see?”

“My eye, it does not look right. Let us leave it at that, Miss Elizabeth.”

“I know what they say about you in the village, Mr Darcy. I also know it is not true...” Elizabeth whispered. She carried a suspicion that Mr Darcy thought a few scars were all it took for a lady to be repulsed but she was made of sterner stuff. Some marks on his countenance did not deprive a man of his character.

“What? That I am half-man, half-demon? Are you completely sure that I will not shed my human skin, grow horns and seduce you into a world of deadly sins?”

Elizabeth turned towards Mr Darcy, raised his hand to her lips and kissed it gently.

“I will take my chances...”

What possessed him, he knew not, Elizabeth somehow managed to tear down his defences while remaining completely virtuous of any guile. With his head bent, he gently removed his hat and patch, slowly he straightened his neck to meet her gaze.

Elizabeth stepped closer and studied him intently. The eye on his right side was smoky grey with specks of cobalt and silver. His left eye was colourless with the black pupil in starch contrast to glassy white surrounding in it. It rendered his appearance a devilish sort of handsome, she would have to watch her mouth lest she speak it out loud. She seriously doubted Mr Darcy would relish the sentiment.

Elizabeth was unaware of the grin she sported. Darcy was at a loss. What could make her smile at his disfigured countenance? Fear or repulsion he could understand but the impish smirk she wore threw him off-kilter.

“Is it blind?”

“No, I can still see.”

“Did it happen when you were injured?”

“No, it was like this when I woke up from the fever. My wounds festered and I suffered an infection for a week or two.”

Elizabeth trailed the sword inflicted scar on his forehead with her fingers and let them follow it to the burns on his cheek that disappeared into his beard. The beard was thinner on his left than on his right cheek, destroyed by the burns. She looked mesmerized rather than frightened.

“And this?”

“Burn marks from acid.”

“Who did this to you?”

“That is a story for another day, Elizabeth. I do not want to mare this moment with the tale of my woe. It would please me if you would agree to make me the happiest of men.”

“But you just confessed...”

“I indicated I would not enter into a marriage of convenience nor force but I do not mind a marriage of admiration, respect, trust and steadfastness. I have a suggestion if you would care to hear me out?”

“Please, continue, Mr Darcy.”

“May I suggest a courtship which would allow us to get to know each other better. I believe we have established mutual respect between us, some trust as well and I have no reason to believe you would not be steadfast but we lack admiration. A courtship should quell the rumours whilst simultaneously create an option for you to retreat, should you wish it.”

Elizabeth could not but think that Darcy was unaware of all the atrocities spreading across the village as wildfire but she had another question of a more pressing nature.

“If I do not require an escape and you do?”

“I always honour my obligations, Elizabeth, but I prefer for you to have the opportunity to withdraw, regardless of what my wish might be. First and foremost I want you to have a choice in the matter. I know where your yearnings tend and I do not relish the thought of depriving you. Besides, there is more to this story and my face are not the only scars I have left on my body.”

“There is more?”

Elizabeth quelled the angry retort as he suggested that she was less honourable, less dutiful compared to himself. He was right, they did not know each other well.

“Much more, I am afraid...”

“You seem abled-bodied to me...”

Elizabeth let her gaze travel over his person. He did not walk with a limp nor did he seem to have any impediments towards the use of his arms. He had lifted her into the saddle with the greatest of ease... Perhaps he had been mutilated in another fashion? Her eyes travelled back to his face. The humorous expression in his eyes made her cheeks grow hot. She better give him her reply forthwith so that she could resume their stroll, preferably facing away from Mr Darcy.

“I accept, Mr Darcy.”

“Thank you! I will write to your father this evening to ask for his consent. Do you want to add a note of your own?”

Elizabeth nodded, then she added quickly.

“Please, be careful when you enter the village.”

Elizabeth’s concern for his safety was heart-warming if not a little misplaced.

“You know, perhaps if you smiled more, people would not be so afraid of you...”

Mr Darcy's countenance cracked into the most insincere smile she had ever beheld.

“I take it back, you look most frightening when you smile.”

Deep laughter reverberated through her chest, it was a most pleasant sound. She might not have made him smile, yet, but a laugh certainly could be reckoned as a prize of its own... 

The couple completed their stroll around the lake and joined the Bingleys in the parlour. The second fainting of the day occurred moments later. Fortunately, Bingley was there to catch the wife that slumped over his lap on the settee. 

“Honestly, I did not know it was that bad.” Mr Bingley muttered as an excuse.

Darcy's hand immediately went to his eye. He cursed under his breath, he had forgotten to replace his eye patch. He glared at Elizabeth.

“What!” she exclaimed as she did not know...

Smelling salts revived Jane who refused to lay down, heartily ashamed of her own reaction... Darcy decided to divert the attention away from her little mishap.

“Miss Bennet and I have decided to enter a formal courtship to quell the nefarious rumours spouting through the village. I will write a letter to Mr Bennet this evening. The courting must await his answer but I believe it will be wise to demonstrate the attachment in front of the gossips in town. I will pick her up in my phaeton for a ride through town, take her out for tea at the Inn, perhaps order some flowers?”

“It is not necessary to write to Mr Bennet for his consent, I have been authorized to act on Mr Bennet's behalf regarding Elizabeth. I do not believe the old man ever expected her to return...”

“Do you give your consent, Bingley?”

“Certainly, may I ask your intentions?”

“To quell the rumours about Elizabeth and me without forcing anyone into an unwanted union. Hopefully, the rumours will exhaust itself or another scandal will revert the attention away from ourselves and we may let the courtship trickle into nothing.”

While Darcy addressed Bingley, he spared not a glance in her direction. His speech was delivered in a business-like tone of voice. She did not like it...   
True, she had expressed a fervent belief in the kind of love that poets described but lately, she had begun to wonder if that was entirely achievable. Perhaps a union of less celestial proportions could be contemplated. 

During her latest indisposition, she had had time for a lot of reflection. The thought of having to marry Mr Darcy had grown on her until it was no longer repugnant but, in fact, quite palatable. When he led her down the path towards the lake, she believed she might even be content...  
But he kept sending her contrary indications. Was he the happiest of men or was he entering into a courtship with her to quell the rumours? It was either one or the other...

His trust in her had impressed her and she had no difficulty meeting his gaze when the full extent of his facial disfigurement had been revealed. The scar was of a deep purple colour which meant it would fade with time. Lighten and become less pronounced. She had no experience with chemical burns, they may fade or they may not. It mattered little. She understood why some may find it difficult to look upon his bad eye, particularly the unlearned and superstitious, but knowing him a little, somehow made it as insignificant as Caroline had claimed...

~***~

Mr Darcy utilized the evening to reflect on the day's events. Richard was out, ferreting out any information that could lead them towards Wickham's whereabouts. He was currently at the inn, treating the patrons to free ale in hope of loosening their tongues.

Darcy himself had experienced some enlightenment the previous day at Thornbrook. He could no longer deny the budding admiration he felt towards Elizabeth after a clammy hand had enveloped his heart with the mention of her fevered state. It was an impediment to their feigned courtship. He would have to rein in his emotions lest he end up with a broken heart. Elizabeth might not see another way out at the moment, never having been the subject to gossip of this kind. She had no experience in how fickle society was. Soon they would have another story to focus their attention upon and Elizabeth would be free to follow her heart...

The very next day he set out for Thornbrook in his phaeton, stopping in Lambton to buy a nosegay for Elizabeth. He noticed the animosity towards him had increased but no one dared approach him. Some of their whispers reached his ears though.   
He was shocked to the core that people he had grown up amongst could believe such atrocities about him. What had he ever done to make them believe the repulsive rubbish? Even worse, Elizabeth? Of course, the people of Lambton did not know Elizabeth, still... Trysts in the woods, a dalliance in the assembly room's garden, an illegitimate child ten years of age, black magic? It would take more than a courtship to quell these rumours, not even marriage could...  
Bingley's note had proved to be woefully inadequate, he did not mention half of it.   
To his defence, the note had been written two weeks prior, the whole debacle might have escalated after the note had been written.

~***~

“Elizabeth is not here, she is down at the Coles cottage doing heaven knows what. Her latest skirmish with the fevers taught her nothing about the distance a properly bred lady should keep between herself and the unwashed. May I offer you some refreshments, Mr Darcy?”

Caroline Bingley had composed herself admirably since yesterday. Her old fantasy about being the queen of the castle, not entirely dead it might seem. He made no effort to conceal his marred face, let her see the full extent of his injuries. It mattered little if she found him repulsive.

“I thank you, no, Miss Bingley. I would like to oversee if my last repairs to the roof have withstood the recent rains. I will meet Miss Bennet there and escort her safely home. Will you inform Mr Bingley when he is available?”

“Yes, Mr Darcy, but I feel it incumbent upon me to warn you about...”

“That will not be necessary. Gooday, Miss Bingley.”

Darcy utilized his long legs to the fullest. Why the haste, he could not explain as long as he did not look too deep into his heart.  
He knocked on the door and was admitted by Mrs Cole.  
Elizabeth sat between a young girl and Joe. Both had their own slate where they were toiling over letters.  
Elizabeth looked up, a brilliant smile transformed her countenance. His breath hitched, hopefully, Mrs Cole had not noticed...

“Mr Darcy, have you brought your phaeton and a pony?”

“I have...”

He brought forward the nosegay he had just bought and handed it to Elizabeth who blushed prettily.  
Joe smirked beside her. A closer look revealed fading bruises on his face and arms. A cut was on the mend above his brow... Darcy wanted to question him but took a second look at his young sister and quelled the urge. Elizabeth would know.

His actions had been keenly noticed by the lady that now arose to follow him out of the cottage. In a safe hearing distance from the cottage, she thanked him for not addressing Joe's injuries in his sister’s presence. She was so young, she needed not know about the animosity towards them in the village.

“What happened to Joe?”

“He was beaten within an inch if his life, defending my honour.”

“Why would he need to defend your honour?”

“Tales of our ride through Pemberley's forest has reached the tattlers ears. Joe defended me, told some villagers that I was lost, several miles from the house. He also told them some rubbish about me being afraid of horses.”

“But you are afraid of horses!” Darcy interrupted.

“Not publicly...”

He looked at her askance but gestured for her to continue her tale.

“He told them that I was scared stiff and had my eyes closed the entire ride which the villagers interpreted as my fear towards you, not the beast beneath me.   
I later danced with you at the assembly which they have now made out to be because you have bewitched me. Obviously, I am now under your spell, in league with the devil himself. They are expecting eclipses, floods and famines to trail in our wake. The recent outbreak of fever has been interpreted as a sign of the validity in their dire predictions.   
The painted lady at the Rose and Crown has spread a tale were we allegedly disappeared upstairs for half an hour when we stopped by to take tea several weeks ago.   
Of course, me being such a short person compared to your impressive height, I was apparently an easy victim. I am supposed to expect your spawn at the next full moon.”

“I believe your sharp tongue could slay me at any given moment, Miss Bennet.”

“Yes, I suppose it could.”

She sounded a little wistful, her head had dropped down to study the path before her. He had not meant...

“I did not mean that you are rude or malicious. I merely pointed out that you have an uncommonly keen mind, Elizabeth.”

“Oh my, I thank you. Was that a compliment or did my hearing fail me, Mr Darcy?”

He just smiled at her teasing, she could not possibly think he had meant it in any other way than the manner it was spoken.  
Elizabeth smirked back, like she had won a great prize at the card table. 

“I wonder what the painted lady at the inn hold against me? She does not even know me, yet she has spun such a tale...”

“It is not you she has anything against. It is me, I might have rejected her... unwanted attentions at a couple of occasions.”

Darcy blushed profusely before he admitted another atrocity he had heard, travelling through Lambton.

“I heard whispers about Joe in the village and a prior connection between ourselves.” He did not know how else to put it without resorting to crudeness.

“Yes, I have heard as well. I stand corrected, this will be my second spawn. I had my first at the delicate age of ten...”

They had reached his phaeton and he handed her up before taking the seat beside her. He tried to take up as little room as possible but even with her dainty person, it was a snug fit.  
Yet, he harboured no regrets for his massive bulk. It was pleasant to feel her soft form, pressed up against him.   
They did not resume their conversation until they had reached the deserted road.

“How are you keeping up, Miss Bennet? With so many horrendous tales being spun against your character...”

“Me? I laugh at them in return, the whole sordid debacle is ridiculous. You must agree but then I heard rumours about me being the cause of little Jenny's death. She got the fever raging through the village. I tended her with her mother until she succumbed...”

Elizabeth suddenly turned away from him, he was not offended. He felt more than heard the ragged breath she seized to comport herself. The little girl's death must have inflicted her deeply. Elizabeth was a caring and compassionate woman.

“I believe it is more dangerous than you believe. When enough people believe the tales, they may gather into a mob and attack. My greatest concern is an angry horde storming Thornbrook and... Causing harm to you and the other residents.”

Elizabeth went quiet and sat in deep contemplation for several minutes. She had not thought that far, obviously. These people were simple and had little means but with the right insensitive could inflict considerable damage. He needed to find Wickham. There were no doubts in his mind that the reprobate was behind this quagmire he found himself dragged into. He was somewhere near, pulling the strings on people who did not know any better.

“We need to fight this.” Elizabeth’s voice was unusually sombre.

“I intend to, with every resource available to me.”

“Do you mean that?”

“Yes.”

“I have a few suggestions, you probably will not find all of them agreeable.”

“I am all ears.” Darcy was rather intrigued.

“First and foremost, we must prove them wrong by socializing with the villagers and our neighbours. We must demonstrate that you are not the ogre they suspect but a man of flesh and blood. The vicar mentioned the Book of Enoch in his sermon last Sunday. He mentioned that demons do not eat. Be prepared to fill out your coats and breaches, Darcy, because you will have to eat as much as you can stomach whenever anyone is around.”

He had eaten less since his injuries, not that it made him take up less space. His bones had not diminished.  
Food generally held little appeal to him. Neither had he entertained at Pemberley nor had he accepted any invitations to dine elsewhere, except for at Thornbrook. At the assembly, he had sulked in a shadowed corner and never approached the refreshment table for food nor drink. He could see this as a problem easily rectified but there had to be more. She had not mentioned anything he particularly disliked.

“Chaucer associated the colour green with the devil, you should not use your green coat out in public or anything else by that colour but lastly... Here comes the part you will take umbrage against.  
Demonology states that a demons mission is to induce humans into sin, often by testing their faith in God. If we marry in church, before the eyes of God and the congregation. They must see you as human, me as human, not as demonized beings in cohort with the devil. If this is not enough, at least, my family will be safe at Thornbrook when I remove myself to Pemberley.”

The last was uttered in a barely audible whisper.

He could see the merits of this solution clearly but at what cost to himself, to Elizabeth?

Darcy's face Pinterest elin.haraldsdatt board: Beastly: https://pin.it/4bzRha3

*Mr Darcy's eye damage is caused by Herpes Keratitis, an infection that can be brought on by fever but usually clears within two or three weeks. I have taken the artistic liberty of making it more permanent in this case.


	9. Strategies

Chapter 9 Strategies 

They drove in silence into the village and left his horse to be tended at the inn. She felt so delicate under his hands when he lifted her down from the phaeton. Not at all the force of nature, he perceived her to be. The thought of a mob beating down on her with fists and sticks made his eyes water mysteriously.   
He was a little late, releasing her. She looked at him intently and plastered a smile on her countenance. Her bearing was stiff, she must be terrified. He wrapped her hand around his arm and walked into the main street.

“I am famished, perhaps we could eat before I take you shopping?”

“Yes, that would be lovely. I have worked up an appetite myself.”

Arm in arm they entered the Rose and Crown. A deathly silence prevailed as he found a vacant table in the middle of the room and nodded towards a serving wench. She approached their table with feigned bravado.

“May I take your order, Sir.” She hissed through gritted teeth.

“What would you like, my dear?” He smiled crookedly at Elizabeth. The nerves of his face had suffered some damage by his injury, he had little sensation on the left side. Some muscles must have been savaged by the sword but Elizabeth seemed to enjoy it when he made the effort, despite the somewhat tattered result.

“I am in the mood for something sweet but first I would like some pork pie, my brother says its taste is delicious.”

“I will have the same. Bingley has excellent taste and a bottle of wine please.”

The maid shuffled away, leaving them to chat amongst themselves.

“Have you thought any more about my suggestions?” 

Elizabeth tried to appear nonchalant but he was not fooled. How come he could read her so easily when other females was a complete mystery to him, including his own sister?

“Yes, can you not tell?” He nodded at plates with something unrecognizable being put down before them. He did not relish the thought of what his stomach may have to say about this meal but he was hungry and left it to the mercy of God.

It did not taste as bad as it looked. He finished his plate and ordered cake for them both. Elizabeth had barely touched her food, he noticed.

“More wine or perhaps some tea?”

“No, thank you, I am full and in dire need to walk it off. Shall we, Mr Darcy?”

Darcy rose and offered her his arm which she took. He paid the maid and walked out of the cramped space, into the lovely and sunny June day.

They strolled leisurely among the carts in the market. Darcy bought a little something, while Elizabeth was occupied elsewhere, that he secreted into his pocket. He had a specific destination in mind but he wanted to approach it clandestinely. He wanted it to be a surprise...

Elizabeth bought chalk for Joe and his sister Jean's slates.

“You are teaching Joe and his sister the letters?”

“Yes, if I can give them the means to earn a profession, I might not come upon them lurking on another man's property to poach his prized deer.”

“Have I mentioned how your mind impress me?”

Elizabeth smiled wistfully.

“You have, actually.”

What now? Had he just prided himself as discerning of the female mind? Ridiculous notion...

“I sense a but?”

“I know it is ridiculous but on rare occasions, I wish I could swap my astute mind for a pretty countenance...   
Oh my heavens, that sounded even worse out loud than it did in my head. Never mind me, Mr Darcy. These maudlin thoughts shall soon pass and my sensible ones shall be the order of the rest of the day.”

“I admire your gift of expressing yourself without disguise or guile. It is refreshing not always having to guess your thoughts or try to discern the real meaning behind something uttered. I wish I had that gift.”

“You are blunt and direct yourself, Mr Darcy. I would not wish you to be otherwise. Mrs Reynolds told me in her praise of you that you did not rattle on like other young men are prone to do. I agree, when you speak, it is worth listening to.”

Elizabeth was afforded the opportunity to study her escort who was staring at something in front of himself. He was on her left which left his uninjured right side to explore. He had undoubtedly been a very handsome man, still was in a twisted sort of way. She wondered if he grieved the loss of his good looks or did such matters not weigh as heavily on the male mind as it did on the female?

Was it true that what the eyes did not admire, the heart did not desire?

She sighed and reverted her eyes before she was caught staring. A beautiful chestnut tree in the last troughs of its bloom appeared before them, Mr Darcy was leading them in its direction. Perhaps he wanted to test her climbing skills should the villagers turn on them...

Darcy guided her underneath the heavy carrying branches. Still in full view of the busy market that was abuzz with activity in the distance.

Mr Darcy went down on his knee. Elizabeth grabbed his hand, thinking he had injured himself or stumbled on a root but the look in his eyes stalled her concerns.

“Marry me, Elizabeth! Not out of convenience, force or fear but inclination. I promise to admire you, to respect you, to trust you and you may be ascertained of my eternal steadfastness.”

Elizabeth needed no time to contemplate. The answer was resonating in her heart.

“It will be my honour to respect, trust, admire and be steadfast at your side, Mr Darcy.”

He rose, enveloped her in his arms and twirled her around with her feet in the air. Laughing, he had a delightful laugh that reverberated through her body.   
His eyes settled on her lips for a moment before they stole towards their onlookers. The confirmation that they were observed sobered him and he released her person to take hold of her hands.

“I am truly happy, Elizabeth.”

Elizabeth wanted him to admire more than her mind but she could settle for what he offered. It was more than her parents had, less than what Jane had accomplished through her marriage but who could begrudge Jane anything? None was more deserving of admiration.

Mr Darcy rummaged through his pocket and produced a little silver ring adorned with a heart. It was precious. Elizabeth smiled when he struggled to put it on her finger, his hands were trembling.

“I wish I had been better prepared. It is not much but it is a promise. From me to you.”

“I think it is lovely, Mr Darcy.”

“Should we return to Thornbrook and share our good news?”

“I believe we must, Mr Darcy.’

The drive back to Thornbrook was quiet but companionable. Mr Darcy held the reins in one hand, the other was occupied, holding Elizabeth's hand.

“Would you not see better while driving without the patch?”

“Yes, but we might happen upon someone on the road. They might be frightened out of their wits and accuse me of being a demon or some other nonsense.”

~***~

Bingley sat behind his desk in his study when Darcy entered. He was offered a seat but Darcy preferred to remain standing. His feet apart, a battle-ready stance. Bingley smirked, not fooled for a second, but Darcy expected his news might wipe the amused expression off his countenance.

“I have proposed to Elizabeth and she has accepted. I would like for the wedding to be in about a week or as long time as the vicar needs to procure an ordinary licence. Will you join me when I go and talk to the vicar?”

Bingley's annoying smirk never left his countenance. He stapled his fingers and looked expectantly at Darcy.

“And why should I grant such a request?”

“Information you are well aware of, rumours of a scandalous nature that we are hoping to quell by entering a union sanctified by the church.”

“Is that it?”

“Not entirely... I am confident it will be a marriage based on mutual respect and admiration.”

“How much admiration?”

Darcy groaned. He finally understood to what purpose Bingley was questioning him.

“Adequate.” He was not giving in to Bingley's games.

Bingley rose and rounded his desk to slap him on the shoulder.

“Welcome to the family, brother.”

Darcy was too strung up to answer with anything but an affirmative nod.

The news was well-received in the parlour. Perhaps Caroline was content with having a family tie with the Darcys without sacrificing herself or she may have realised the game was lost. She politely congratulated the couple who were clandestinely eyeing each other when they thought the other was not looking.  
A trip to St John’s church in Lambton was decided upon on the morrow. To order the license and set the earliest date the church was available for the wedding.

A carriage was agreed upon to cause as much stir as possible. Darcy would come with the grandest barouche Pemberley had to offer, it was time to show some muscle.   
The guys lurking in the ditch by the turnoff at Sir Llewellyn’s estate had not passed him unnoticed when he and Elizabeth returned from Lambton. They had not made any move but he would have to be alert on his return home though.   
Richard had mentioned that for some strange reason Sir Llewellyn had taken umbrage against Mrs Cole moving from a cottage on his estate to Thornbrook. It was all rather confusing...

Champagne was brought from the cellar after supper had been consumed but Darcy needed to head home soon if he wanted to drive in a reasonable good light. With only one eye, it was essential...   
He sipped a glass of champagne to satisfy his host and made his farewells. He would have liked a private moment with Elizabeth but the entire party had joined them when she walked him out to his phaeton. He had to settle for a kiss on the hand but at least she had left her gloves in the parlour... 

Darcy ruminated on the day's events, mainly focusing on the one thing he longed for but had yet to manage. Their first kiss... Spoken highly of by poets, often repeated in bragging tones at the men's clubs, being it Brook's or White's. A chance to gauge if the match would be frosty or passionate...

The blaggards climbing out of the ditch to cut him off, took him by surprise. He had entirely forgotten to keep alert through his pleasant musings.   
Darcy ripped off his eyepatch to see better and whipped the docile pony into the gallop of its life. He fumbled after the pistol hidden under his seat and pulled it out, pointed directly at the leading scoundrel. The man seemed frozen in place but his cronies came to his rescue and pushed him out of the way because Darcy certainly had no intention of stopping.

He really needed a new steed to replace Jupiter. He had a son grazing in the fields but he was too young and inexperienced to carry Darcy with any confidence. An old military horse would be ideal. One that could run through canons without flicking his ears would be perfect but when would he get an opportunity to go to Tattersall? 

~***~

Blissfully unaware of Darcy's plight was Elizabeth. She retired after he left because she had a letter to write. If she sent it with the morning post, her father would be informed about her marriage before it had taken place, knowing well he would not be able to attend. Somehow it mattered that he knew.  
Armed with pen and paper, Elizabeth began to write.

Dear Papa

When you receive this letter, I might have married or at least, I soon will be.  
Mr Bingley's friend, mentioned so often by your new son, has proposed to me and I have accepted.  
(If your memory are failing) I am speaking of Mr Darcy of Pemberley in Derbyshire.  
I enter this marriage with all possible hope of a meaningful future with this man and if I am to completely honest, no small dose of admiration (if not the ardent love I so often wished for in my youth). If you are of a mind to quote me on this, I will firmly deny it which reminds me you should probably burn this letter before mama sees it. There will be no peace at Longbourn should you fail at this task.   
Mr Darcy is handsome, honourable and regards me as a rational creature. He has riches and wealth in abundance. Enough to keep bread (and venison, he has his own herd) on the table and enough rooms at Pemberley to accommodate a horde of children (and visitors from Hertfordshire), even a few turrets. You know I care little for these things but Bingley assures me I will not have to go without.  
I have saved the best for last, father... The library is magnificent, grander than your wildest imagination (if that is not an incentive to visit, I cut my losses).  
Please tell mama and my sisters that I love them very much and to you dear papa, until we meet again.

Elizabeth Bennet (quite possibly for the last time)

Elizabeth sanded the page, folded it and sealed it before she started to second guess her words. It would have to do. There was no sense in bringing up old grievances at this point.

*I have shamelessly nicked part of a sentence from the Poldark TV series. Elizabeth Warleggan asked Ross “if it was true that what the eyes admired, the heart desired”. He answered that it was in his case. It immediately set in motion a train of thoughts that began with, not necessarily...


	10. Union of True Minds

Chapter 10 A Union of True Minds

Darcy arrived as planned in his grand barouche with liveried footmen in the back and the front. The Darcy name and leverage should not be left to speculation.

Bingley and Jane joined them as Bingley had to sign in her father’s stead. He had brought the papers who proved it, to be on the safe side. 

Darcy seemed unnerved and kept a steady gaze out the window. Elizabeth worried she had done or said something to offend him but he had noticed the special care she had taken about her appearance when he entered the parlour a few minutes ago. A rare compliment had been bestowed upon her apparel.

~***~

The vicar in Lambton was an old man who had lived in the world but entered Lambton many years ago, he had seen Darcy grow up. He was not among their adversaries but a quiet, reflective gentleman. 

Bingley signed the papers. The vicar thought he would have the license by the beginning of next week and they settled upon Tuesday as their wedding day.

Lastly, the vicar wanted to have a conversation with Darcy and Elizabeth in private about the blessings and challenges of marriage. They waited in a room at the back of the church while the vicar escorted the Bingleys out of the church. They would wait at the Rose and Crown while Darcy and Elizabeth received enlightenment on the better and the worse.

“Lord Matlock, Lady Aubrey, Colonel Fitzwilliam and Miss Darcy to see you, Sir.” The vicar announced and retreated back into the church.

Unified, arm in arm, they faced the guests that were shown into the back room of the St John church.

“Uncle, to what do I owe the pleasure of your company?”

“Is that not obvious, nephew.”

“The wedding is not until Tuesday, an invitation will be sent.”

“I know.”

Lord Matlock appraised his fiancée, clearly finding something lacking. Darcy braised himself for the onslaught that was sure to be coming.

“You could do much better, Son.”

Elizabeth released his arm and strode towards the entrance. For a moment his heart filled with dread that she would walk out the door and never return.

He had not noticed his sister, his focus centred on his formidable uncle. She was ghostly white, tears were streaming down her cheeks while she looked about to faint. Elizabeth caught her and gently led his sister to a chair, hunching down before her whilst rubbing her hands. Georgiana was in safe hands... He reverted back to his sombre uncle. Contemplating how to address this new development. He had hoped he would not have any opposition from his family, a futile wish...

“I love her, uncle. I will marry Elizabeth or not at all. My mind is set, whether you accept it or not. The option would be to leave the future of Pemberley for Georgiana's thin shoulders to bear. What is it to be? Do you support my choice or not?”

“Richard has spoken highly of her but there are other ways to satisfy your baser needs.”

“Do you perceive me as a person who would keep a mistress in the dower house with a wife and quite possibly children waiting at home?”

The Lord's shoulders slumped in defeat. The barb had hit its mark. Lord Matlock was not proud of his eldest son's last escapades. His marriage was in tatters with only a female child to show for it.

“No, I do not but you cannot blame me for testing your resolve. It will not be an easy path for you nor for your wife.”

“I am accustomed to adversity, uncle. Elizabeth makes it bearable.”

“I understand,” Lord Matlock admitted. His eyes never left his nephew's but Darcy's one good eye was not aimed at himself.

In another corner of the room, Elizabeth was busy keeping her presumptive new sister alert.

“Can I get you something, a glass of wine perhaps?”

“No, I thank you, I will be well in a moment. I sometimes forget what my folly have cost my brother.”

“I am sorry you see it that way. I was hoping that you and I could be friends, with time...”

“Oh no, you mistook my meaning. I dearly want to be your friend. My brother has spoken very highly of you in his letters.”

Elizabeth laughed, partially in relief that Georgiana was not another adversary to their union.

“You must not believe a word he says, grossly exaggerated, it would seem.”

“Oh no, my brother always speaks the truth...”

Fragments of the other conversation in the room had reached her ears. A profession of love, ardent defence of their union, rejection of nefarious schemes... She turned towards her fiancé, adoration shining in her eyes joined with promises. Her gaze was answered and reciprocated.   
The room grew quiet. The ardent lovers did not notice but gravitated towards each other by forces beyond their control. Meeting in the middle of the room, their hands intertwined, separating two hearts that already beat as one. No words were uttered until the vicar entered and broke the connection that had its onlookers as spellbound as the participants.

Elizabeth blushed, she had forgotten herself for a moment. What must his family think of her?

~***~

Richard scrutinized his cousin sitting opposite him, nursing a tumbler of brandy in the Pemberley library. It was midnight and the rest of the family had retired. Darcy seemed relaxed despite the turmoil of the day.

“You seem content, cousin?”

“I am more than content, I am hopeful for the first time in a year. The future no longer appear as a bleak existence but enticing with promises.”

“Elizabeth is the source for this change?”

“She is.”

“Despite the recent animosity she has created in the village?”

“We both know Wickham is the source of that. Have you had any luck locating his whereabouts?”

“No, it is like he has disappeared from the face of the earth. Nothing from London, Hertfordshire, Brighton nor here. I wonder if he might have left England.”

“Could it be a thought to investigate?”

“I have a contact in the admiralty, a bright fellow named Admiral Croft. I will see what I can do to get my hands on the passenger lists for distant foreign destinations. It will have to wait until after the wedding but I need to report back to my general in London anyhow, I will see what I can do while I am there.”

“That would be helpful, I loathe not knowing where he is.   
I have another favour to ask you though. I need a new mount, preferably one that does not spook easily, a well-trained one that I can ride while I train Jupiter’s son.”

“Tattersall is only open on Mondays during the summer so the opportunities will be few and the selection limited.”

“I know but I trust your judgment on horseflesh. You know my preferences.”

“That I do.”

Darcy twirled his tumbler rather than sipping it. His eyes trained on the swirls of the amber liquid. 

“We never spoke of the weeks I was delirious with the fever. I believe I am ready to hear what transpired while I was out...”

“It is not much to tell. I got your message about Georgiana's peril, I was perhaps an hour behind you on the road.   
When I entered the house in Ramsgate you lay sprawled on the floor.   
Wickham lay unconscious, draped over you and Georgiana lay prostrate beside you both wracking in sobs. I thought you must have been attacked and robbed.   
I lifted Wickham off you and checked his pulse. It was beating so I did not bother to inspect him more thoroughly but put him aside. Georgiana was distressed but did not appear to be hurt.  
Your stomach was covered in blood so I did not notice... Not until about a couple of weeks later when they changed your bandages and I saw... I reached the conclusion you later told me but Wickham had left by then.”

“You mean to tell me he stayed in the house after I was injured?”

“Yes, for about a week. He had a bad concussion and did not leave his bed for the first four or five days. When he was up and about, Georgiana was safely ensconced at Matlock. No need to worry, he cost you very little. He had no appetite with his nausea and he brought his own pain reliever. He had a bottle of that vile stuff Doctor Quicksilver once concocted, Dover's Powder. He consumed quite a lot of it, perhaps he is addicted...”

“It would not surprise me. He has been known to socialize with the notorious but apocryphal Mohocks. It makes me wonder though, if Wickham might have been aware of the condition of my eye?”

“I guess he might. It was much talked about. One day it was fine then it glossed over and whiteness erased the grey of your iris. Remember when we quarrelled over the mirror?”

“Yes,” Darcy admitted and chuckled. He had insisted on being handed a mirror, Richard had refused vehemently to provide him with one.   
His valet had obediently fetched one that Richard had knocked out of his hands before it reached Darcy. A shard landed on top of his cover. Darcy had grabbed it a little too quickly, cutting his fingers. Not that it mattered much compared to what he was about to witness.

To look at himself had been a surreal experience under the heavy influence of laudanum. He had laughed at the obscure countenance that was looking back at him, only half of the face was his. The other half, some beast from a fairy-tale...

~***~

Elizabeth lay in her comfortable bed but sleep evaded her. The day had been too eventful and most of it pleasant. Especially what she had overheard. Who had said that those who eavesdropped never heard anything good about themselves? She would attest that whoever had uttered such nonsense was utterly wrong... He loved her and Elizabeth now knew she loved him. It had come sneaking up on her so gradually that she could not say when or where but the butterflies in her stomach did not lie.   
In a week she would be married, living under Pemberley's roof as its mistress. The butterflies turned into gnawing rodents. What if she was not cut out for it? Managing the household of a grand estate was no menial task. Perhaps Mr Darcy could... No, she could not bother Mr Darcy with every little detail, she would have to rely on Mrs Reynolds.

Elizabeth bolted up into a sitting position. His injuries, he had said his facial scars was not half of it. What horrors was she about to discover? Would she even be able to keep a straight face? Would she dissolve into a sobbing bride on her wedding night? 

~***~

A visit to Lambton's seamstress could not be delayed. Bingley escorted Jane and Elizabeth, Caroline had begged off. What could Lambton possibly offer that she had not already acquired in London?

Elizabeth owned the fabric she wanted to use and since time was of the essence, the cut and shape had to be simple but the silvery-white silk with a gold shimmer was too exquisite to pass up.   
Fortunately, the seamstress, Mrs Edgerton, had no qualms in serving the new mistress of Pemberley. She was rather keen to win her patronage as she was too wise to object.

She gasped when Elizabeth pulled the fabric she had received as a gift on her twentieth birthday from her aunt and uncle. 

“We have little time but we cannot allow you to go without... Ruth, Lilas! Come here girls, we are making Miss Bennet's wedding gown and she needs some embroidery... May I suggest that instead of doing the hem which would be too time-consuming, we could embroider roses across in the front. White roses, nothing that would stand out too much, on the stem with leaves to add a little colour. What do you think, Miss Bennet?”

“It sounds lovely, can you manage it by Tuesday next?”

Mrs Edgerton exchanged glances with her employees who both nodded.

“We will work day and night to finish it, Miss Bennet. Are you planning to use a bonnet or a veil perhaps?”

“No, thank you, Mrs Edgerton. With flowers in abundance, I plan to have blooms in my hair.”

“White ones would accentuate the gown, if I may so bold as to suggest it.”

“My thoughts exactly, Mrs Edgerton.”

~***~

Next on their list were invitations. There was no time to have them printed, they had to be written by hand.   
Mr Darcy had some exalted relatives who had to be invited but few would take the trouble of travelling with such short notice. The exception would be his Matlock relations who were already informed.   
Elizabeth had written to her father.   
The question was if any of the neighbours should be invited.   
There were some prominent families in the area who might take umbrage if overlooked. The baronet, Sir Llewellyn and the knighted magistrate, Sir Lawrence and his wife Lady Throwbridge were each sent an invitation. Sir Llewellyn's wife had passed many years ago but he had three sons of which the eldest was still at home. They had to be included and so had Sir Lawrence's daughter.

Blessed Mrs Reynolds had the wedding breakfast firmly in hand. All Elizabeth had to do was to relate some of her own favourites, Mrs Reynolds made sure they were added to the table. She had the silver polished but one feature, Elizabeth wanted to do herself. Mainly the flower arrangements. Having a July wedding had its perks, plenty of flowers in full bloom. Elizabeth and Jane spent the last two days before the wedding, decorating Pemberley and the church with the aid of both Georgiana and Caroline until they were satisfied there could be no more adornments added.

*Elizabeth's dress on Pinterest (elin (dot) haraldsdatt) board: beastly: https://pin.it/5iEbHoU  
*If you wonder if the chestnut tree could flower in late June, it could flower as late as July according to my sources and since the little ice age had not yet passed, I made it so...


	11. The Wedding

Chapter 11 The Wedding

Their wedding day dawned with a clear blue sky. Not a single cloud threatened their open carriage procession from the church to Pemberley as a newly wedded couple.  
Elizabeth stood calmly, gazing out the window. Her previous jitters all but gone, replaced by serenity.

Mr Bingley had signed the settlement papers the previous evening, only the wedding ceremony remained. She better get ready lest she miss it. Elizabeth chuckled at the thought. She doubted anyone of the staff would let her, neither would Jane who at that moment stood outside her door, knocking gently.

“Come in, Jane. I am up.”

~***~

Not particularly fond of attention, especially after his injuries. Darcy was standing at the back of the church with his bad left side facing the congregation, it would be a gross exaggeration to claim he was enjoying himself. What was taking Elizabeth so long? When the doors opened, all eyes would be directed at her, including his.  
The bells finally chimed, relief must be soon upon him...  
The doors opened but instead of Elizabeth, Jean and six or seven other young girls he recognized but could not name, entered carrying little baskets. The baskets use became apparent when the girls reached into them and scattered white rose petals down the aisle. Reaching the end after completing their assignment, all the girls sat down on the floor, four on each side of the aisle when Elizabeth appeared on Bingley's arm on the threshold.   
As he had predicted, all eyes were on the ethereal beauty, advancing towards him at the tones of Beethoven’s Violin romance no 2.   
A string quartet played from the church’s gallery, Darcy had not even noticed they were there. His sister looked a little smug, she must have had something to do with it.

His eye drew back to Elizabeth. A heavenly vision in silvery-white with roses in her hair. There, for his sake...

Darcy could not have repeated one word the vicar had uttered until he pronounced them husband and wife but he remembered his own vows and hers. From that moment and for all eternity, the most sacred words he had spoken...

The vicar pronounced them husband and wife but before they could celebrate, they had to sign the church register.   
Arm in arm they exited the church, rose petals raining over them. They had not even kissed yet but were husband and wife in the eyes of the Lord. He could not wait much longer, to kiss her, but he preferred to do so without the assembled spectators.   
The white carriage stood with his perfectly matched pair of white horses, adorned with ostrich plumes on their heads. Darcy’s wedding gift to Elizabeth... She would no longer need to walk if the carriage was in use, he doubted she would ever learn to ride nor drive his phaeton but it did not matter. She did not need to. Elizabeth could share his horse if they wanted to explore the grounds.

The top was off the carriage, they would wave, see and be seen. The initial purpose of the wedding that had taken on a life of its own and grown into so much more.

“It is yours.”

“What?”

“The carriage is yours and the horses with it. The driver's name is Albert, he will be at your personal disposal. I know you do not ride and I doubt you know how to drive? This way you can pay calls and visit Lambton or even Hertfordshire whenever you like. Of course, I would like to accompany you if you are to travel far away but you are not dependent on me. It comes with one condition and that is to bring at least one footman in addition to the driver. I will appoint someone I trust particularly with my most precious wife.”

“Thank you, my love.” 

The endearment nearly was his undoing. On an impulse, he grabbed Elizabeth’s waist and hoisted her up into the awaiting carriage. She squealed, laughed and kissed him on the lips. They had had their first kiss and he had not even had the wherewithal to savour the moment. The rosy red that spread from her cheeks and down towards her décolletage was just adorable. Enticing him to provoke it to reappear with haste.  
Elizabeth had once said he should not smile but it could not be helped. She reached out her hand to help him up it was as ridiculous as it was heart-warming. He pretended to utilize her strength when he heaved himself up by his right arm. His left still wrapped in her dainty one. The carriage leapt forward, the horses were particularly eager after waiting for so long outside the church, but he could not tear his gaze from her lips. The crowd cheered and Elizabeth turned to wave at their entourage, waiting to enter the carriages that would take them to Pemberley and an elaborate breakfast.

A glint of something shining arrested his eye. For a split second, he thought she had a diamond pin in her hair then his mind registered that the shiny object was raised in the crowd behind his wife. His reflexes kicked in, without a thought he found himself huddled on the floor. Elizabeth safely protected underneath him when the shot from a pistol ripped through the air.   
Elizabeth wriggled.

“Keep down Elizabeth, he may have another weapon.”

“Go, go! Back to Pemberley, now!” he shouted at the driver who responded immediately. The carriage quickly gained considerable speed, soon trees shadowed the sun. They were out of the streets of Lambton, heading for Pemberley in full gallop. 

He deemed it safe to raise his head and check if Elizabeth was injured. The terror in her eyes broke his heart. Had he done the right thing? Bringing Elizabeth down with him in this quagmire that his life had become?

Elizabeth repaid his service and frantically searched his person.

“Are you injured?”

“No, are you?”

“No!”

“Thank the Lord...”

Elizabeth trembled, he pulled her into his lap and saw the bullet hole in the side of the carriage. Had he not pulled Elizabeth down on the floor, it would have entered her stomach. Why aim at her when he was their target? It did not make any sense, to kill the demon's wife and not the demon himself.  
He allowed himself a ragged breath and hid his face in her hair. No one was following them, not even their entourage.

~***~

Lord Matlock was the first guest to arrive at Pemberley and he was furious. Bingley and Sir Llewellyn were next while Sir Lawrence had to deal with their assassin as the appointed magistrate. As there was no prison in Lambton, the scoundrel had to be brought all the way to Bakewell. 

The newlyweds had had a few moments to collect themselves and stood in a united front to greet their guests although there was no way of concealing that their footmen were now armed. Additional guards lined the driveway...

The gentlemen adjourned to the library with one exception. Darcy refused to relinquish Elizabeth from his side. Not now, not ever...  
The others would just have to accept it.  
Jane took on the role of a hostess to their arriving guests while Elizabeth was occupied in the library. 

“Since Sir Lawrence is not here I gather you caught the blaggard?”

“We did.” Richard stepped forward.

“Who was it?”

“A young man named Reginald Carter, he is not from Lambton, neither does he have his faculties intact if you get my drift.”

“He is mad?”

“Most definitely.”

“What was he doing in Lambton, outside the church at this particular moment?”

“St John had told him to shoot the first angel he encountered because it was a demon disguised in white...”

“Do you think someone has fed him the story, could someone have influenced him in any way?”

“I do not know but that is likely. I doubt it was a coincidence since Elizabeth was dressed in white, had a new white carriage with white horses. Someone who is well informed about all the goings-on in Lambton which takes the suspicion away from Wickham who could not possibly have seen Elizabeth’s gown without entering Lambton.  
The interrogations should provide more answers but I believe you are safe for now.”

“It was not me he aimed at, it was Elizabeth.”

“Does it bloody matter?” his uncle wanted his say.

“Language, uncle...”

“If she is to be present she is going to have to take it because I have had it. A bride getting shot at on her wedding day? This has gone too far, we need soldiers to protect us. I am writing to the Prince Regent as soon as I have eaten. We certainly provide him with enough support, it is time we get a little something in return.”

“I can write to my general and inquire if he could be of assistance,” Richard suggested.

“What I want to know is where in the bloody hell is the Derbyshire militia?” Lord Matlock thundered on.

“I can answer that,” Sir Llewellyn offered. “They are currently stationed in Brighton.”

“Hell and damnation, what are they doing there, Llewellyn?”

“Training for a sea invasion, Lord Matlock.”

“Derbyshire does not have a bloody shoreline! Who is in charge of the regiment?”

“Colonel Forster.”

“They were stationed in Meryton before they removed to Brighton. Lieutenant Wickham was one of the officers, as was your son, Sir Llewellyn. Lieutenant Denny is your son, is he not?” Elizabeth joined the conversation.

Sir Llewellyn nodded.

“A fine young man if I may say so and very popular amongst the young ladies. My sisters in particular since he is such a good dancer.”

“I did not know you were acquainted with my son, Mrs Darcy.”

Hearing her new name made Elizabeth smile and turn towards her husband.

“I guess not much more can be done until after the breakfast, I hate to let good food go to waste because of a mad man. Please, gentlemen, let us join the ladies in the dining room.”

No one minded the least, having worked up an appetite through sheer vexation. Darcy let them file out of the room while he himself waited, not relenting his grip on Elizabeth’s hand. After the last man had left he pulled Elizabeth tightly into his arms and held her close for several minutes.

“Fitzwilliam...”

“Mhm.”

“I am hungry...”

The low rumble from suppressed laughter shook his shoulders.

“But... I wanted to kiss you.”

“Well then, you may kiss me then we can dine...”

Darcy needed not to be asked twice despite the underlying tease. He enclosed her cheeks within his hands and bent down, thankful his lips had not suffered any injuries...   
Her lips were warm, soft and receptive. A fast learner, she was definitely kissing him back within a few seconds and what was supposed to be a short interlude dragged out.

“The wedding breakfast is a couple of newlyweds short...”

Damned Richard and his interference. Elizabeth’s stomach grumbled, perhaps it was time to end it before it carried too far, with a witness...  
Darcy reluctantly released Elizabeth’s lips, her cheeks burned but a soft smile graced her swollen lips.

“We will resume this conversation later, Elizabeth.”

“I will look forward to it.”

She must know what she was doing to him, despite the innocent look on her countenance.

They joined their guests, the meal was taken in a subdued yet companionable atmosphere. Elizabeth was a little nervous, not solely because of the wedding night but the gift she had secreted away amongst her possessions.  
When they surveyed Thornbrook, Elizabeth had found an old medieval sword, hanging over the mantelpiece. It had been dusty and neglected but Bingley had been willing to part with it, he was not a collector of old artefacts. She had offered to pay him which Bingley had opposed to but he had relented when Elizabeth explained that she could not give as a gift what she had not purchased.   
A sum, far beneath the actual value had been agreed upon and the blacksmith had restored it to its former glory. She wondered when and how she should give it to him when an idea appeared in her mind. It would, at least, be a little entertaining. They needed a laugh after the strains of the day...


	12. Unveiling

Chapter 12 Unveiling

Elizabeth had asked for half an hour to ready herself. Darcy had been ready in five and was now twining his thumbs in eager anticipation mixed with dread. He had to give her the option if they should consummate their wedding or wait until they knew each other better. There was much unveiling to be done should she choose the first which may not come to pass when she realised the full extent of his injuries. She might even be repulsed.  
His thoughts had moved the clock a few minutes further. He wondered if Elizabeth was feeling as anxious as he...

~***~

By the time the knock came, Elizabeth was ready to go to him.

“Enter!”

The door opened and a casually dressed Darcy entered. He still wore his shirt, cravat and breaches but his formal attire of waistcoat and coat were gone. His feet were bare, large and hairy. She struggled to lift her gaze away from them.

“You do not need a sword to fend me off, Elizabeth. I would never force you to do anything...”

Elizabeth chuckled nervously.

“It is your wedding gift, me and a medieval sword to fight off dragons and madmen I should add. I noticed when I stayed here that you have quite a collection in your study.”

The sword was tied in the sash of her robe. To release it, he had to untie the sash which he did. Revealing a diaphanous, white linen chemise underneath. It took all his will power to lead Elizabeth to the settee rather than the bed. He filled two glasses of wine and offered one to Elizabeth before he joined her.   
Taking a sip of his glass while staring into the licking flames in the hearth. His servants thought of everything but a fire in July was perhaps a little much, even in a castle built of stone. Were the maids trying to sweat them out of their attire?

“Thank you, Elizabeth, but I meant what I said. We agreed to get to know each other better before we married. Circumstances changed that but we need not consummate our marriage tonight, nor on the morrow. Take as much time as you need, I will never force myself on you.”

“Would you prefer to wait?”

Darcy turned on her sharply. She must be delusional to even utter such ridiculous nonsense but he could not tell her that...

“I prefer to follow your lead.”

“How impolitic of you, Sir.”

“Firstly, I would prefer it if you called me Fitzwilliam, especially when we are alone and secondly, I thought I was the opposite of impolitic?”

“You are subjecting me to make an impossible decision, Fitzwilliam. As I see it, I have two choices. Either I can reject you and make you a poor wife and deprive myself or I can choose not to reject you and expose myself to scorn for being wanton.”

“Believe me, Elizabeth. You could never make me scorn you, especially not in the matters between husband and wife. In that, I am your humble servant. In fact, I would not mind at all should you behave wantonly in my company...   
I have to warn you though. As I have told you before, the scars and burns are not restricted to my face. It is but a little part of it. I am not disabled but neither am I a pretty sight. The wounds are healed but my scars are tight and not always pain-free.   
Yet, my greatest concern is that you will be repulsed when you look upon me. It would not even be helpful to blow out the candles because you would still be able to feel it when you touch... my person...”

“You can never repulse me, Fitzwilliam. You are as lodged in my heart as Jane, eternally fixed. One day I will waddle around, heavy with your child. My figure will suffer and later I will go wrinkly. Would you stop caring for me when even my mediocre looks disappear?”

Darcy had been lost after the mentioning of a child, the thought was the opposite of repugnant but the last she uttered was blatantly false.

“I assure you that the thought of you heavy with my child is as far from repugnant as you could possibly get. Furthermore, I have for a long time thought of you as the most handsome woman of my acquaintance. Why would you even think that you are remotely mediocre?”

“Someone once told me that what the eyes admired, the heart desired. I feared you did not find me attractive...”

“I certainly hope not, I would be doomed to a life of loneliness if that was true. But here I am, wedded to England’s most lovely lady. Never fear, Elizabeth. I am more than attracted to you, I am utterly besotted, bewitched and enchanted. I am under your spell, Elizabeth.”

“It is different for men...”

“Who told you such nonsense?”

“My mother. Compared to Jane I am sorely lacking.”

“Jane is beautiful but she does not have your sparkling green eyes nor your lush curls that I am yearning to run my hands through. Neither does she have your kissable lips nor the adorable freckles sprinkled on your nose.”

Darcy kissed her nose gently. 

“Later, perhaps you will let me show you just how much I adore you but I have an unpleasant story to reveal to you first. I cannot let you see me before I have told you how I got hurt. Needless to say, what I am about to tell you must never leave this room.”

“You have my word.”

Darcy sat back, stared into the flames and began his sordid tale.

“There are some things I do not know myself but I know why I came to be in Ramsgate. I had arranged for my sister and her companion to rent a house for the summer. I had planned to visit her a few days later when an alarming report reached me.   
A friend had seen Georgiana promenading alone along the beach with a man I knew but did not trust. Combined with the unusual tone in the letters I had recently received from her, my alarm grew. I sent a message to Richard to follow while I immediately set out for Ramsgate.  
I do not remember arriving but a lump in the back of my head indicates that, possibly, when I entered the parlour, someone struck me from behind.   
When I came to, Wickham had cut my face with the sword but what woke me up was him marring my stomach with a W. I believe that it was him that knocked me unconscious, tied my hands on my back and my ankles together.”

“How could he do such a thing? What do you suppose possessed him?” Elizabeth interrupted

“Wickham always had an evil streak, even as a child. We were raised together. His mother died shortly after his birth.   
My father felt guilty for keeping the motherless child's father so busy with estate matters. He often invited him to stay with me and my governess. After a while it became permanent.   
When he was about five or six, he pushed the child of a tenant off a plunge on the hill at Pemberley's west side. He claimed they had both stumbled and that he had tried to rescue her by launching for her but I have always wondered if it may have been deliberate. It certainly looked like he pushed her from my point of view but I was not believed. Perhaps such a young child cannot be held accountable, regardless of intent.”

“What happened to the child?”

“She died instantaneously poor thing, her neck was broken.”

Elizabeth waited quietly for Darcy to resume his story when he was ready.

“That does not mean that I believe his carvings were made from anything but an impulse at the spur of a moment rather than intentional malice. He had tried to wake me by pouring wine in my face, Richard said I smelled like a whor....”

“A whorehouse?” Elizabeth eased him a long.

“Pardon me, Elizabeth. I should watch my tongue better in the company of a lady but I have to admit you surprise me. I thought young ladies were not told of such matters.”

“My father let me read the news sheets. One could believe London society existed of little else with lists of available services advertised. Besides, ladies talk... Not in the company of gentlemen, of course. We must keep up the pretence of ignorance at all costs. Why quite escapes me. Do not gentlemen talk about their ladies when you are at your gentleman club?”

“Not I.”

“But others do?”

“Yes.”

“Do you suppose women are any different?”

“I guess I have never contemplated what ladies do when they are alone.”

Elizabeth raised an eyebrow and looked at him intently.

“I know what the lady with the painted face at the Rose and Crown is about. We have a similar lady in Meryton. She calls herself Mrs Primrose but she is really a Miss. She does not act as brazenly as your Lambton madam but the result is the same...  
I am just glad she did not impose herself on you in front of me, at the Rose and Crown.”

“I would never... She would not...”

“You are a desirable man, Fitzwilliam.”

Darcy groaned.

“I have to continue my story before you drive me to distraction.”

Which had been Elizabeth’s intent, to chase away unpleasant distant memories he could not alter.

“Pardon me, do go on.”

“Wickham was ready to make the final blow, aiming the sword at my heart when Georgiana snuck up on him from behind with a bottle of acid in her hand and hit Wickham over the head. She was, of course, unaware that the bottle contained acid... The stopper fell out and the acid burned my face but mostly my shoulder, some even landed on my chest. No one noticed at first, it took a little while before I began to feel the burning. The servants thought my agony was from the wounds on my stomach. By the time anyone realised I had been burned, the burns had penetrated deep into my skin. They put wet cloths on them but it scarred, as you can see.”

Darcy untied his cravat, the top of his shirt and loosened the top buttons to show her his wounded shoulder.

“The wounds on my stomach were not very deep but they festered and I was delirious with fever for nigh on a fortnight. It has lately been revealed to me that Wickham had a concussion from Georgiana's blow and remained in the house for about a week after the attack. No one knew he was the attacker before I was on the mend. Because I screamed, tossed and turned, the doctor sedated me with large doses of laudanum.   
Georgiana was guilt-ridden, she removed to Matlock as soon as feasible while I recovered in Ramsgate.   
She still suffers from nightmares about her brother’s screams. She feels guilty for inflicting the burns and for me needing to travel there in the first place. Her companion encouraged her to seek Wickham’s attentions since he was an old family friend and my father’s godson. He had convinced her that the familiarity and compassion she felt towards him was love and he added additional incentives by claiming he had been cruelly treated by me. He accused me of withholding a living my father had bequeathed him, failing to mention that he accepted three thousand pounds in lieu of the value.  
I have tried to dissuade her from the beliefs of her guilt but eventually, we decided some distance was for the best and she has stayed at Matlock ever since. Richard has a sister closer to her age and a lot of friends to redirect Georgiana’s thoughts to more pleasant topics. Leaving me with more time to heal...  
My eye was not damaged in the attack, the iris turned white while I was feverish. The doctor had seen a similar case after fever but for the afflicted person it had cleared up after two or three weeks. Mine has not...”

Elizabeth had moved closer and grabbed his hand. He felt exhausted and could not bear to look at her, neither did he need to because he could feel her tears dripping on his hand.

“You should have him arrested, he deserves to be hanged, drawn and quartered after what he did to you and Georgiana. He cannot deny it after signing your body with his initial. There must be witnesses that saw him at Ramsgate, Georgiana's companion at the very least...”

“No! Elizabeth, can you not see what that would do to Georgiana? She would be deemed ruined in every possible way. She has suffered enough, I have suffered enough. My scars will not go away but if I can prevent Georgiana's life to end in ruin, it will have been worth all the pain. All I want is to erase the memory of the scoundrel ever existing.”

“There must be some other way. Something could be done?”

“I am trying to locate him. Richard is searching for him and we have lookouts placed all over England. We suspect he might have left the country. Richard will try to confirm it by checking the passenger lists at the docks in London.”

“What will you do if you find him?”

“Offer him a free passage to a faraway country with some capital to invest in a business.”

“That is generous of you.”

“All I want is for him to be as far away from me and Georgiana as possible.”

“I am surprised you do feel the need to seek revenge.”

“I wanted revenge, the first few months but anger and resentment are fatiguing. I fantasied about killing him but he is not worth hanging for. I could have taken him to court and exposed Georgiana's folly but could you picture the reaction my appearance would create in a jury? I would never have won. All I want is to live in peace with you, my family and my friends, I refuse to let this define me any more than I have already done. No more, Elizabeth, I am truly happy.”

Unnoticed by him, Elizabeth had unbuttoned more of his shirt. She pushed the fabric off his shoulders. The awful purple scars across his torso, interspersed with spots of burn marks on his left shoulder and upper chest, lay exposed before Elizabeth’s lovely green eyes. 

Her tears dried up. Reverently she let her fingers trail the path the tip of Wickham's sword had taken. Darcy relaxed back in his seat. If she wanted a thorough look, he would be obliging. To his surprise, she bent over him and kissed his scars. 

“If you continue on this path, I may release you from your choice...”

Elizabeth smiled and kissed the scars on his face.

“I think you are very handsome, Fitzwilliam. Confident, secure in your own self. Yet you are loving and caring, not to forget wise. You are the best man I know!”

“Dear Lord, what praise. How handsome?”

Elizabeth laughed and swatted him on his arm. Pulled the pins out of her hair and stood up to shake out the curls.

“You mentioned running your hands through my hair...”

Darcy encircled his large hands around her waist and pulled her close.

“Is that an invitation?”

“Could we not agree upon that I will say no if you do something that does not please me?”

Elizabeth had not the courage to beg but she managed to express her desire.  
Darcy pulled her closer without answering, preferring to demonstrate rather than tell.  
Elizabeth was no different, it would seem. Standing between his legs, she shivered looking down upon him. He never wore the patch when they were alone, allowing herself to be drawn into his gaze.

Darcy's thumbs drew lazy circles on her belly through the gauzy fabric. Slowly, the hands travelled upwards, never letting go of her eyes. Reaching beneath her breasts he let his thumbs slide underneath. Her body reacted, her taut peaks protruding through the fabric. Her breath hitched when he kissed one through the linen, leaving a wet mark on her chemise. Had he suckled her? Her breathing grew laboured. A powerful yearning surged through her veins. She wanted something, something more, more touching and definitely more kisses.

Darcy rose abruptly and kissed her like he had read her thoughts. Running his fingers through her hair, he seized a firm grip on her head and ran his tongue along the seam of her lips, he was admitted.   
New sensations coursed through Elizabeth's core. She felt desperate, wild even. Jane had mentioned these powerful emotions but never had she thought they would make her hunger with such an abandon...

Darcy pushed her chemise off her shoulders and let it flutter to the floor, tripping Elizabeth on their stumbling journey towards the bed. The kisses deepened in a battle between tongues and lips, fighting for superiority.   
Darcy lifted her onto the feathery mattress and crawled after her, his breaches left behind in a heap on the floor.   
His ravenous expression, hovering above her, sent white-hot frissons cursing through Elizabeth’s body.  
She could not withstand the suspense and pulled him down to her waiting mouth. The feeling was exquisite, the weight of his body a sublime contact crushing her into the mattress, creating a deeper connection than she had ever experienced.   
His lips trailed softly from her mouth to the nape of her neck while her hands roamed every surface of him she could reach.

Darcy rose on his arms, leaving Elizabeth feeling bereft until his lips continued their trail from her porcelain breasts to her creamy belly.   
Her thighs burned and her core demanded something she had not yet deciphered but when her husband touched where it mattered the most. Elizabeth rose from the bed in a sinewy arch of taut flesh and soft mounds. It did not satisfy her craving, it only intensified until she was a writhing mass of moans and sighs. Only then, did he enter her, painstakingly slow for what she would have preferred and not at all when she gasped.

“Did, I hurt you?”

“No, not at all. I feel... Heavenly!”

“Then why did you gasp?”

“Did I? It was not from pain... Probably from pleasure?”

Darcy chuckled and rested his forehead in the crook of her neck. The heady scent of her flesh was too tempting not to taste. He trailed his tongue along the alabaster column to her ear and nibbled, grazing his teeth lightly along the dainty lobe. Elizabeth moaned her pleasure which Darcy took as a sign to let himself move softly within her.   
Dainty hands grabbed his muscled buttocks and her legs wrapped around his thighs. She was too receptive, his resolve was weakening until he let her have his full length. Her hands flew to the headboard and she bore down on him, her breasts quivering before his eyes. He bent down and sucked a nipple into his mouth which switched Elizabeth’s breathing into short pulsing gasps. He felt himself throb within her, he sat upon his knees. With a firm grip on her hips, he pulled her along. A few flicks with his thumb on her exposed bud combined with gentle thrusting sent Elizabeth over the edge. Quivering beneath him while he watched the muscles in her abdomen contract rhythmically. The last sliver of restraint trickled into nothingness, he thrust into her in slow but determined strokes. Endorsing her bliss to last a little longer. When she went limp he let himself go, filled her with his sap of life and crumbled to his back, bringing Elizabeth with him. She lay sprawled on his chest. Breathing heavily with her hair tickling his torso. Moist curls concealed her blissful countenance. Darcy brushed the tresses away to study his bride. He had never seen her so relaxed, so content and unguarded.

“I am amazed,” she mumbled.

“So am I, my love, or should I dare to call you my lover?”

“You can call me anything you like.”

Darcy chuckled. “Does that include alluring temptress, stunning enchantress and enticing siren?”

Elizabeth made a confirming noise.

Elizabeth breathing calmed, she rose and left Darcy feeling bereft and cold as the evening air wafted over his sweat-covered torso. She found a washcloth.

“Let me,” Darcy offered but Elizabeth shook her head firmly in denial.  
She applied the cloth and made a strange exclamation.

“What?”

“There is no blood!”

“There should not be...”

“But... The maidenhead, I hope you do not believe...”

Darcy hurried over to his distressed wife and enveloped her in his entire being.

“Come back to bed and I will explain what I have learned.”

Elizabeth nodded and they lay down on the bed with every conceivable surface touching each other.

“My father had a friend, Erasmus Darwin, a physician with an inquisitive mind. He was one of the key thinkers in the Midlands Enlightenment society. He wrote books on botanic, pathology and generation. He was not one to accept old certainties without thorough investigation. He researched the maidenhood and found it to be a soft, thin tissue that did not cover your entire... entrance but rather crowning the edges. With careful preparation to make the female wet and slick, combined with a restrained... err, penetration, the maidenhead would stretch and widened. If it ruptures, it is more a sign of a lazy, ignorant or a downright reckless lover, not a sign of virginity...”

“I dare not imagine the females volunteering for that examination...”

“He did not conduct his examinations on live specimens.”

“Oh...”

He let Elizabeth have a few moments in silence to process her thoughts.

“Are you not tired, Elizabeth?”

“No, I ache.”

“I am sorry. A soreness or even a dull pain is not unusual, or so I am told, after engaging in marital affairs.”

“I am in no pain, Fitzwilliam. My ache is of an entirely different nature. Can the proceedings be repeated?”

The combination of his Christian name formed by her lips and her innocent request impressed Mr Darcy into a compliant and devoted servant.

~***~

The newlyweds awoke the next morning with a deepened connection and a new favourite diversion. Two more days passed before they even left their chambers, mainly to quell any gossip from the servants than by any inclination of their own.

*Erasmus Darwin was indeed a great thinker and the more renowned Charles Darwin’s grandfather. Foreshadowing the evolution as we know it today in his work Zoonomia. He did not, as far as I know, research the female hymen. It is a figment of my imagination. I, however, have researched... For further information/demonstration, I recommend the YouTube video “why you can’t POP your cherry”. It is crude but enlightening.


	13. Visitors For The Newly Weds

Chapter 13 Visitors For the Newlyweds

Elizabeth received a letter from her father a few days after the wedding. Her surprise was great when it revealed that he had already been introduced to her husband.   
The note was short, pointed and offered his felicitations. He did mention that as he had looked upon her husband, he was not convinced she had not been after his wealth. It was meant in jest but Elizabeth burned the letter to be on the safe side. Darcy might take her father’s dry wit to heart...   
Somehow, protecting Mr Darcy from injuring remarks had become one of her prime concerns. Further, he voiced his concern about her marrying such a silent, brooding man while she was an outgoing, loquacious creature. Elizabeth promptly wrote a reply, thanking him for his blessing but she was confident she had made the right choice. After all, she would rarely suffer interruptions when she chatted away.   
Mr Bennet had not mentioned any intention of travelling North to visit his daughter. Elizabeth opted to tease Mr Darcy about the prior meeting with her father rather than dwell on the unpleasant. The tale he related did not hurt him in the eyes of his wife...

~***~

Three weeks of wedded bliss passed where the newlyweds rarely left their chambers nor did they ever part from each other’s company.   
It was the beginning of August when the ever-vigilant Darcy spotted a carriage, from their shared bedchamber, ascending the driveway towards Pemberley.   
Situated on the top of a gently sloping hill, visitors approaching were easily discovered.

“Dear Lord!” Darcy exclaimed.

“What?” Elizabeth scrambled to the window to look for herself.

“Get dressed, we are to have company.”

“Who?”

“Lady Catherine.”

“Lord Matlock's sister? The one his son described as a harridan?”

“The very one...”

Elizabeth pulled the bell, it would not do to greet her husband’s aristocratic aunt in a flimsy nightgown. She needed her lady's maid to do her hair, lace her stays, force her into a plethora of petticoats and one of her finest morning gowns.

“How long do I have?”

“Less than fifteen minutes... I must leave you to get dressed myself.”

A quick kiss was all there was time for before they separated to make themselves presentable and hasten down to the foyer to greet their guest.

“Lady Catherine de Bourgh of Rosings Park in Kent,” their butler announced. 

Darcy opened his mouth to welcome his aunt but she beat him to it.

“A most alarming report has reached me...”

“Do you mean the express I sent, inviting you to my upcoming wedding?”

“Well, yes. Did you get my express reply?”

“I did, it burned easily...”

Lady Catherine harrumphed her displeasure. “I hope I am not too late, I brought Anne so that you two can finally marry. Come along, Anne. No reason to dillydally.”

A tall, dark and exceedingly pale lady in her mid-twenties stepped forward from her hiding place behind her mother. Her eyes slowly rose to meet Darcy's. The aforementioned eyes rolled back and she fainted into a heap on the floor.

“See what you did? You must marry at once!”

“You believe I should marry your daughter who faints in fear when she lay her eyes upon me? It does not matter... Aunt Catherine, may I introduce you to my wife Mrs Elizabeth Darcy. Elizabeth my aunt Catherine.”

Elizabeth curtsied deeply in respect for the much older lady who was currently scrutinizing her person with disobliging eyes. Elizabeth did not wait for the examination to be over. Footmen tended to Anne, not her mother. Elizabeth guided them into the parlour while Mrs Reynolds was sent to fetch the smelling salt. Anne revived after a few minutes, confused about her unfamiliar surroundings.

“Miss de Bourgh, I am Elizabeth Darcy.” It still created a tingling sensation through her spine to pronounce her new name.

“Thank heavens, I suppose that means that you are married to my cousin?” She inquired suspiciously.

“Yes, we married a little over three weeks ago.”

“How can you bear it?”

“With the greatest equanimity, I assure you.” 

Darcy had disappeared with his aunt to his study. They emerged a quarter of an hour later, both wearing stormy expressions.   
Elizabeth had no more success with Anne who did not seem to enjoy conversation after satisfying herself that her promised cousin was indeed married.   
Relief flooded when Mrs Reynolds announced that their guests' rooms were ready to let the ladies retired to wash off the road dust. The silence that had stretched on between their party could not have been more awkward.

“Have they left?” Richard stood on the threshold, looking around for his aunt.

“They have retired to their rooms, not left.”

“Good, I have news of which I thought it prudent to wait to inform you about until the harridan had had her say.   
I have not found any record of Wickham sailing on any ship from the London docks. He could go under a false name, of course, which would be impossible to confirm with any certainty or he might have left from another port. I have sent requests for information but if he wanted to leave without a trace, it would not be difficult... He has not been spotted in London, Brighton nor Meryton since last we spoke.”

“He has not been seen here either.”

“The good news is that I have a new steed for you and he is waiting outside as we speak.” 

Darcy was on his feet in a second.

“Then what are we waiting for?”

Darcy and the Colonel strode out of the house, Elizabeth lagged deliberately a few steps behind, thinking she could admire her husband’s new mount from the top of the stairs...

“Meet Swiftsilver, Darcy. Is he not marvellous? A fine piece of horseflesh if I must say so myself.”

“He is!” Darcy stroked his hand along the horse's back and legs, feeling the muscles ripple under his touch. Swiftsilver was a large but lean thoroughbred in excellent condition. His black shiny coat glittered in the sunlight as he threw his long mane greeting Darcy. It was love at first sight but Elizabeth was not jealous. She rejoiced in seeing Darcy so happy, his entire being lit up.

“Did I do well?”

“Are you joking. I cannot believe you did not want him for yourself.”

“I would have, could I have afforded him but alas... I hope you will not mind me taking him for a ride or two whilst he is in your possession. He was a dream to ride Darcy, his gait is so smooth. My buttocks are not even sore after three days in the saddle.”

Darcy glanced up at Elizabeth who was waiting on the top of the stairs. He would so like to try him, just for a short ride.

“Oh, go off with you. You know I cannot withstand the deprived puppy look...”

“Thank you, Elizabeth. I will make it up to you, later...”

Darcy swung himself up on the bareback horse and rode off without hearing Elizabeth’s sharp intake of breath.

“I thought he would wait for the horse to be saddled!”

“No need, Elizabeth. Darcy is the best horseman I know.” Richard reassured.

~***~

To Pemberley's owners constipation, Lady Catherine decided to prolong her stay despite the missed opportunity to rid herself of her only daughter. Her sights changed to Richard who was the only unmarried male left in the entire Fitzwilliam family.

Not that the newlyweds let it influence their daily routines overly much. If the ladies insisted on importuning themselves on a newly wedded couple they would have to face the consequences.  
Richard stayed as well as a shield between the discontented aunt and the disobedient nephew, dodging every hint about his own marital status. He was not looking for a bride, neither would he settle for one of a sourly disposition. In his heart of hearts, he longed for a sweet lady with a happy disposition who would look at him with pure adoration. Since this was not particularly conceivable to accomplish, he settled for bachelorhood which came with its own perks.

~***~

September 

“Oh, an invitation to a costume ball. I have never attended a costume ball...” Elizabeth admitted wistfully.

“We could attend as beauty and the beast,” her husband remarked wryly.

“Oh, could we?” Elizabeth’s voice rose half an octave and her smile covered her entire countenance.

Darcy had not been serious but seeing the pure joy pouring from his wife, his poor attempt of a jest had backfired.

“But not as beauty and the beast, neither of us would fit the description but what of Robin Hood and the fair maid Marion? Medieval history is so fascinating.”

Darcy regarded his wife and realized he had already lost. She had not had any entertainment since their wedding, two months prior and that event had not gone exactly as planned. She had suffered a month of unwanted visitors who had not yet left. He owed her...

Thorough research with not a hint of Wickham's whereabouts made it unlike he was still in the area. Neither would he stand a chance at all with so many people around, some who still had proved to be his friends like Sir Llewellyn and Sir Lawrence. 

The Lambton assembly had also proved that Wickham had chosen to leave rather than stay and confront him. Perhaps he did exaggerate the threat Wickham imposed. Had he let fear overtake his senses? The gossip had relented somewhat since his marriage. Not entirely disappeared but more quiet whispers than confrontational verbal attacks. 

“Where is this exalted event taking place?”

“Sir Llewellyn has invited us to Penwhite Park for his harvest festival at the end of the month.”

Elizabeth had once mentioned her weakness towards what she called his deprived puppy eyes. He could not do any less for her, they would be safe, he would make sure of it.  
He had one last straw to grab on to.

“What about my aunt and cousins, they will not be pleased being left alone during the harvest celebration.”

“They are included in the invitation.”

Of course, they were. It had not passed the baronet that they were entertaining exalted guests'. Darcy hoped that his aunt would not be subjected to the rumours about his person. It was bad enough that she had found out about the shooting incident on his wedding day. Socializing might bring forth what he preferred to pass unnoticed by his easily excited aunt. The scene she would create, he could easily imagine.

~***~

Darcy did not regret the decision to attend Sir Llewellyn's ball. Elizabeth had managed to draw even his dour cousin into excitement about creating their own costumes, with significant help from Lambton's seamstress and her team of helpers, but their eagerness was transforming Pemberley into a joyous place. Even his aunt was drawn into the enthusiastic anticipation of a ball. Even the attic had been rummaged through in search of items for their costumes. Darcy had left it too Elizabeth to create his, he was wondering if he might live to regret it...


	14. The Costume Ball

Chapter 14 The Costume Ball

Darcy sighed when he espied his costume. If the ball did not tire him out, wearing this costume certainly would. The armour covered his chest, back and arms. Fortunately, it was made of leather rather than steel but yet. He wondered if he would be able to lift his arms to eat or if Elizabeth would have to feed him. A memory of Elizabeth feeding him strawberries in bed flashed before his eyes. No, she could definitely not feed him in the company of Sir Llewellyn's guests.

Elizabeth was having less trouble with her long green gown with lacing in the front and down her arms. She had found an old medieval silver belt in the attic where they had attached a large chatelaine with keys to show she was the mistress of the house. Her long curls hung loose down her back, except for the fringes in front who had been braided to the back of her head by her maid. 

“Well, Linney. Do I make a decent portray of maid Marion?” she asked her lady's maid.

“You certainly do, mam.”

~***~

Darcy waited at the bottom of the stairs. His new medieval sword hung at his side while he held the bow in his hand. Aunt Catherine appeared first at the top of the stairs in a red wig and a hideous gown in orange and gold. 

“Queen Elizabeth, your humble servant,” Darcy bowed theatrically before his aunt who by choice or coincidence had usurped his wife's name.

Anne was next, dressed in a similar attire in pink and gold.

“Mary, Queen of Scots, I presume?”

“Yes,” Anne clapped gleefully at his correct assumption. 

Darcy wondered if Anne knew that Queen Mary had been beheaded in the Tower of London at Queen Elizabeth's request. 

He needed not ponder long before another Elizabeth stole is full attention. Floating down the stairs with her hair down and a gown that clung to her form. He greeted her by pulling her into a tight embrace, kissing her upturned lips. His aunt scoffed behind him but at that moment he could not care less what her opinion might be. He was not a wordsmith, his sentiments were better told by his actions.

Reluctantly, he released Elizabeth to escort her to the waiting carriage. A deep forest green hooded cloak protected her from the evening chill, brought on by the late September air.

~***~

Penwhite Park, illuminated by torches, adorned with leaves and flowers, painted a welcoming picture as they descended the driveway. Guests were arriving, alighting their carriages in a sort of organized chaos. Darcy disembarked first, aiding each lady in turn and guided them to the entrance were Sir Llewellyn and his sons welcomed their guests.

Elizabeth was fascinated, the baronet had brought tree branches dressed in autumn colours to decorate the columns in the room. The palette was rich reds, deep yellows and dusty orange. She walked around, admiring the decorations quite absorbed when they encountered a cluster of people. To her astonishment, the painted lady from the Rose and Crown was present. She had not thought that ladies with her particular occupation would be welcomed into society much less invited to a grand event. Mrs Primrose in Meryton certainly had not...   
She felt her husband go rigid beside her but the introduction could not be avoided. Elizabeth had to curtsy before the infamous Miss Theodora Wood. She, in return, coaxed Lt. Chamberlain to engage Mrs Darcy for the first set which Elizabeth would not have minded if not for the fact that she was already engaged. She liked the shy officer with a severe stutter much better than some of his more forward comrades.  
Lady Catherine, who seldom let the attention divert from her own person for longer periods of time, stepped forward.

“Miss Wood, who are you portraying, I cannot account for it, you are aware that powder and rough have not been in fashion in London for a decade...”

“Madame de Pompadour,” Miss Wood smirked.

“Oh, yes, I suppose you need powder and rough for the mistress of Louis XV but where is your French king?”

“I should take a turn about the room and see if I can locate him or I could infiltrate the militia and spy on them so he doesn’t lose the 7-year war. Mrs Darcy, please join me. I cannot face the enemy alone.”

Elizabeth felt Darcy's grip on her hand tighten but she could not decline without sounding rude, not that the thought of rudeness was her sole deterrent. Neither could she fight her curiosity about this woman who had lied about her to the people of Lambton.

“I would be delighted.”

Darcy regarded her with disbelief but she reminded him that his aunt and cousins were in want of refreshments and joined Miss Wood.

“Have you invited your family for Christmas Mrs Darcy?”

“Christmas? It as still months away, I have not yet offered it much thought.”

“It is only two months to St Nicholas day.”

Yes, if you miscount with over a week, Elizabeth thought but did not voice it out loud.

“My father does not enjoy travelling, I doubt he would venture north during the winter. I believe we will have a quiet Christmas, just the two of us.”

“Lady Catherine doesn’t plan to stay until the festive season?”

“No, she will leave next month before the days grow too cold for comfort in the carriage.”

“What about your sister?”

“My sister will enter her confinement in December.”

Elizabeth wondered where all these questions tended. Was she hoping for an invitation? She would be sorely disappointed if she did, Elizabeth’s politeness did not stretch that far.

“Who are you portraying, Mrs Darcy? A medieval peasant?”

“Maid Marion...”

“Stealing from the rich, giving to the poor?”

“I believe the only item Maid Marion stole was Robin Hood's heart, Miss Wood.”

“Oh, you may call me Theodora, everyone does. I was surprised to see Darcy in a costume, he was not fond of dressing up when we were more intimately acquainted.”

So this was what she was up to... She might have a slight knowledge of Mr Darcy but she obviously did not know Elizabeth. She was not easily intimated, neither was she easily fooled...

“Yes, Mr Darcy mentioned your previous encounters but I can assure you, with the right persuasion he is very pliable.”

“I hope I did not injure your maidenly sensibilities, it was not my intention, Mrs Darcy.”

“Maidenly sensibilities are not your forte, is it, Miss Wood.”

Miss Wood looked stunned by Elizabeth blunt speech.

“I pray you will excuse me, my husband is looking for me.”

Elizabeth broke their tête-á-tête to meet her husband who was indeed striding towards them.  
She smiled at him, the musicians were tuning their instruments before the first set which Elizabeth had promised her husband as well as the supper set and the last set of the evening, the waltz.

“What did she want?” Darcy was rarely polite when he was rattled.

“Just dropping some hints about intimacies she has never experienced.”

Darcy glared towards the lady who had wrapped her talons around Sir Llewellyn's arm. He did not seem to mind.

“Do not distress yourself, my fair knight of the Sherwood forest. I did not believe her. I rather think she is out to stir trouble, let us not make her succeed. You have a damsel in distress right before you. I can feel I am in dire need of a quadrille...”

“And I am in dire need for a detour to the balcony to work upon those impertinent lips.”

“Work? Oh no, we are at leisure tonight, Sir.”

“Minx!”

By the time the sets had formed, Theodora was dancing with another guest. He was dressed as the Yeti, impossible to recognize with a big white ball covering his countenance.

“The French King's courtesan is spreading her favours wide this evening,” Elizabeth remarked drily. “Is there anyone she would not indulge?”

“I doubt it but there are several true gentlemen present who prefer not to subject themselves to the French disease...”

Elizabeth laughed as they separated to go down the line of dancers.

Elizabeth partnered with Richard next and Bingley after him. Her forth had been promised to lieutenant Chamberlain who met them as she and Bingley exited the dance floor. 

“I am sorry, Mrs Darcy, I am somewhat indisposed this evening. I injured my foot during the exercise this morning. I am afraid I am not up for much more dancing tonight. Would you mind if we took some refreshments instead?”

“Not at all, I am a little fatigued myself,” Elizabeth assured while noticing his stutter was less pronounced when he was expressing himself to a limited audience.

Fetching a glass of wassail, Elizabeth suggested he should sit down somewhere. The now slightly limping lieutenant showed great relief and escorted her into a parlour where some seats could be found.

“Would you do me the honour of dancing the next set with me, Mrs Darcy?” 

The yeti had come from nowhere, speaking in a rich northern accent. He must be a local patron. Elizabeth was about to decline, the set was taken, but an interruption made it unnecessary.

“Niece, I am in need of your aid. Would you oblige me.” Lady Catherine was not one to be gainsaid. Elizabeth rose from her chair to follow her aunt.

“Your niece is engaged for the next set,” the yeti stepped forward and grabbed Elizabeth’s elbow.

“She is,” Mr Darcy entered the room having overheard the last few words.

The next series of events appeared to happen in slow motion before Elizabeth’s eyes. The grip on her arm loosened and the yeti disappeared out of the open French door with her husband a few strides behind. He looked somewhat restricted in his heavy armour, his gait was laboured.  
She heard a crashing sound and hurried footsteps. Too late she realized that she was unsteady before blackness overtook her.

She came to, what felt like a few moments later with a plethora of worried countenances hovering above her, none of them was her husband.  
Jane, Bingley, aunt Catherine, Anne, lieutenant Chamberlain and Miss Theodora were expressing their concern simultaneously.  
Elizabeth waved them away and sat up on the fainting couch someone had put her upon and tried to get up but the entourage surrounding her would not let her.

“I am well, there is no need to worry. I just need some air.”

“Not when your husband and Richard are chasing some intruder at Sir Llewellyn's ball. They overturned one of Sir Llewellyn’s urns on their hasty departure, it is not safe with all the dirt and broken pieces. Besides, you have never fainted in your life, Lizzy. I am not at all convinced that you are well.”

Jane had developed a firmness over the last months that Elizabeth did not like but had to accept. Especially when she was second by her brother, aunt and cousin. She would have to withstand the pampering until they, rather than she herself, were convinced of her full recovery.  
She sipped compliantly on the brandy aunt Catherine insisted would set every malady to rights. Not daring to tell her she could not stand the burning liquid.  
It was going to be a long wait...

“What is going on here?”

Mr Darcy's baritone boomed across the room from the threshold of the French doors. A cacophony of voices erupted at the same time, explaining Elizabeth’s brief moment of unconsciousness.  
Everyone seemed to believe it in order to take liberties upon her person this evening. She was hoisted up in the air before she lay cuddled in her husband's lap.

“What happened, Elizabeth? Are you ill? You did not accept any foul-tasting liquids, did you?”

Elizabeth shook her head in denial while she raised her eyes to Darcy's, regarding him intently.

“Everybody out!” Mr Darcy brooked no opposition.   
He waited until the door closed behind his reluctant aunt before he addressed the problem at hand.

“Have you ever fainted before, do you know what might have caused it?”

“No, to the first question and I have my suspicions to the latter...”

“What?”

“I believe we may expect an addition to our family...”

“Who?”

“Our child...”

Darcy's mouth fell open while his brain processed her words. The moment her words dawned on his clouded mind, she found herself in an even fiercer embrace. Hardly able to breathe, she tugged an arm free and stroked the cheek of the head that was buried in her neck.

“Are you pleased?”

Darcy drew a shuddering breath unable to reply at the moment but his fierce hold relented a little.

“Did you catch the scary snowman?”

His head shook in denial. Elizabeth, eventually, managed to coax out of him how the pursuit had unfolded and the disappearance of who knows who. The yeti had ripped the headpiece off himself but it was too dark outside for Darcy to discern who it was. He had vanished into thin air. Richard joined the search but they had no luck locating him. It was a mystery...

~***~

Darcy was too rattled and uncomfortable to linger at the ball. He was abrupt in his farewells and fierce in his protection of her. It did them no services but it could not be helped. Her husband was a staunch protector...

At home, Lady Catherine and Anne retired. Richard stayed behind to discuss the evening’s events. Believing the yeti somehow linked to Miss Theodora, questioning her was of the essence. She was, however, under the protection of Sir Llewellyn, a twist Elizabeth had not foreseen but was well known in the village. She lived in the old dower cottage on Sir Llewellyn's estate.  
Mrs Cole had been her maid before she moved to Thornbrook and could relate that Sir Llewellyn was not the only gentleman she received at her house.  
What Darcy knew of Miss Wood was that she had been raised by her grandmother, a lady of the same occupation that she currently held. The rumour had that her mother worked in a similar trade but she had died young and left her daughter in her grandmother's care, even younger. The grandmother had passed a few years back, she had no other next of kin, as far as he knew but she hailed from Bakewell. A place he knew but not intimately all its inhabitants. An interrogation was of the utmost importance and was set for the morrow. Both Richard and Darcy would go to avoid any attempts of entrapment.

~***~

Lady Catherine said her farewells a little earlier than anticipated. The cold had reached Derbyshire mid-October and the frosty grounds had spurred her return to Kent before they were bound by snow to Pemberley for the rest of the winter.   
Her mission utterly failing with epic proportions.   
Her ladyship was not used to brooking disappointment but in this instance, it could not be helped. She had undertaken the gruelling journey to make her nephew see reason. Yet, against her reason, her will and her own better judgment she had found herself enjoying the upstarts company.   
Not that she would ever admit such a thing but savaging her ties with Pemberley was not in her best interest. She reasoned she better keep her tongue for the latter reason and pay no mind to her proclivities towards liking the chit.   
Besides, Darcy hauling her off to his study, mere minutes after arriving, stating in no uncertain terms what would happen if she disparaged his wife, had been a great incentive to act with civility.  
Anyhow, Darcy and Richard spent much of their time on a fruitless investigation of lord knows what. When they returned, Darcy scarcely spared any time for his elderly, respectable relation but focused solely on his expecting wife. It was time to go home...   
Richard had lent a deaf ear towards any suggestions of conjugal bliss with his cousin. She had held hopes for Sir Llewellyn for a brief period. He was a member of the peerage after all but the recent skirmish with his paramour made him an undesirable husband candidate. She could not bear to stand by, watching her daughter suffer the humiliation.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for the many wonderful, heart-warming and inspirational reviews. As a treat I am putting up 4 chapters today and the remaining 3 tomorrow.
> 
> Stay safe!


	15. South of Heaven

Chapter 15 South of Heaven 

“Elizabeth! I have a little surprise for you but you must promise not to get too excited...”

“Why, Mr Darcy? I believe it will not hurt our child if his mother gasps in astonishment.”

“Look out the window.”

A lone carriage was heading down the driveway. It looked like it had seen better days and could benefit from new springs but that was not what caught Elizabeth’s attention.

“Is it my father?”

“Let us greet them at the entrance and you will see for yourself, my love.”

Elizabeth sprinted off after leaving a quick kiss on her husband's cheek.

“No running!”

Too late, Elizabeth was gone. He had better follow or better yet, catch up before her enthusiasm made her tumble down the stairs. Was he always to have this fear that something might happen to Elizabeth or would he grow more blasé with time? He could not quite make up his mind which was greater evil...

At this particular moment in time, his little nook of the world felt like Eden. Elizabeth could not conceal her happiness as her mother, Mary, Kitty and Lydia alighted the carriage. Her countenance fell a little before her father finally stepped out, deliberately taking his time. He had to grab hold of the carriage door or else he would have toppled over when his favourite daughter flung herself into his arms.

“You came! I can scarce believe it. Welcome to Pemberley.”

“You look well, my Lizzy. More than well, actually. Perhaps your husband is feeding you a little too much?”

Elizabeth swatted her father’s arm before she linked her hand around it and dragged him to the stairs where Darcy was waiting. Her mother raptures went unnoticed while Elizabeth revelled in the company of the two most important men in her life.

~***~

Elizabeth stood gazing out the window in silent contemplation. Never had she thought such profound happiness would be hers to bear? Surrounded by family and friends with a husband she loved so much it hurt and in a few months, a babe in her arms. The fruit of a twisted love story too strange to be anything but real.   
She never thought the day would come where she actually was glad for the turmoil and adversity the villagers had created. That something so precious could originate from adversity.   
With the worst of it behind her, the travails they had suffered had faded into a distant memory.  
Her father's soothing voice droned on in the background, with small interruptions from the deep baritone she had come to love. Her mother chippered away on an insignificant topic but none were listening as usual.   
Georgiana played a simple Christmas hymn on the pianoforte. Even Kitty and Lydia listened while Mary paid rapt attention to Georgiana's fingering. Bingley and Jane had retired for a little while, their babe was due at any moment now. It had been the best St Nicholas day ever. Gifts had been exchanged, a delicious meal had been consumed which all paled in the comparison to be surrounded by her family.

Lights danced in the distance. Elizabeth wondered what it was... A strange weather phenomenon, like the stars had fallen from the skies and were dancing in the woods or perhaps they could see Lambton from here?   
No, that was a ridiculous notion. Lambton was five miles away, she would not be able to discern lanterns at such a significant distance. Perhaps some carol singers were out to beg for sweets in addition to something hot and liquid to warm their chilled bodies?   
The custom was not common in Meryton but her aunt Gardiner had mentioned it when reminiscing about her childhood in Lambton.

More and more lights were dancing. At first, it was maybe ten. Now it was at least thirty and still growing, could it be fifty? 

“Fitzwilliam? Will you join me for a moment?”

“Always,” he smiled and lay a comforting hand on the small of her back and turned to see what she was looking at.

“Bloody hell...” he muttered under his breath but more residents besides Elizabeth had heard him.

“What do you think it is? Could it be carollers?”

“Highly unlikely...”

Mr Darcy kept his eyes on the swaying torches and lanterns. His hand on her back had moved to encircle her waist in a fierce hold that kept tightening. His bearing became rigid which made Elizabeth looked up at his blank countenance, devoid of any expression that may reveal his thoughts.   
She turned towards him and lay a comforting hand on his chest. Beneath it, his heart was pounding violently. His gaze flickered to her eyes, softening for a second before his vigilant watch of the driveway resumed.

“It is a mob approaching, I am absolutely certain. It looks like they are carrying canes or poles in their hands.”

Darcy waved over a footman and whispered instructions to bolt the doors, secure the windows and load their weapons. Every entrance needed to be guarded.

Fervent activity ensued while Mr Darcy remained at Elizabeth's side, gazing towards the uninvited visitors.  
Running footsteps could be heard in the otherwise temperate Pemberley household. Furniture was moved, nails hammered to board up some of the entrances while weapons were pulled from displays on the wall.

As the mob approached, a man in gentleman's clothing could be discerned in the front. He had a sword swinging from his hip and rifle over his shoulder. The rest of the squad wore threadbare workers clothes. Mostly men but there were some skirts among the trousers. It was clear they had a leader though. One man walked ahead of the others.

The mob entered the light from the large torches on the front lawn. Darcy recognised the well-dressed man in front and tore himself from Elizabeth’s side and ran down the stairs towards the front door.

“Fitzwilliam?”

He should have known Elizabeth would follow...

“Stay with our family, Elizabeth. I will not be long...”

Elizabeth watched in concern while Darcy unbolted the door and strode outside to the awaiting enemies, fury spurring his steps.

Outside on the portico, Mr Darcy began unbuttoning his coat.

“Are you readying to fight me, Darcy? Would you take it like a human and fight with bare fists or do you want another attempt with swords? You know you cannot best me.”

It was a blatant lie. Wickham had never excelled at any sport that did not involve women, drink or cards. The latter, because he cheated but to best Wickham through fighting, was not his intention.   
Wickham spouted all kinds of lies to work the crowd into a frenzy.   
Darcy had a wife and soon if he managed to save them, a child. He would conquer Wickham at his own game, manipulation...

Throwing his coat away he started unbuttoning his waistcoat. Wickham cheered. 

“No matter how impedimental, undressing is not going to save you from me tonight, Darcy. I have a hundred men or more with me, you do not have a chance in hell.”

Darcy ignored him, tugging off his cravat. 

“I wonder if he has scales on his body, should we have a look?” Wickham continued to taunt.

Darcy had to give it to him, Wickham knew how to work the crowd who cheered him on like a hero.

A dainty hand stalled his arm as he untied his shirt.

“Go back inside, Elizabeth. Barricade the door. If these ruffians should break down the door, use the secret passageway, save yourself and our child.”

Darcy spoke in harsh whispers, there was no time for pleasantries but before he shooed her inside, he kissed her hard while he continued to rip off his shirt. Conveying all the emotions there was no time to voice.

“Do you think I would leave you with this mob and that bastard,” Elizabeth whispered while pointing at Wickham while positioning herself beside him.

Before he had time to protest, more family members slipped out the door. Mr Bennet took a firm stance beside him, folding his arms across his chest, his feet slightly apart. Mrs Bennet, in a moment of insanity, hurried down the stairs towards the mob. The crowd grew silent in anticipation.

“Mr Wickham, how nice of you to call. But you are much too late. I told you after she rejected a most eligible proposal that she was too headstrong and obstinate but come on, Mr Wickham. You can see for yourself that you have nothing to this, although you do look handsome in your red coat, it is nothing to this splendour. There is no reason for such a display of jealousy. Elizabeth is married, there is nothing we can do about it now. I myself was enamoured with a red coat once but my Denny was a captain, not a lieutenant like your friend.   
In the end, I chose security and comfort over good looks and a life following the drum... One may wonder if it was the right decision but looks do fade and a life in dirty barracks, moving every few months... Well, it takes the right kind of lady to endure such living conditions and I do not believe Elizabeth would have thrived. She needs quietness as much as she needs socializing.”

Darcy formed some respect for his new mother who either was brilliantly clever or utterly bonkers.   
Her loud chatter had created dissatisfied grumbles, rumbling through the crowd. 

Behind him, family and armed footmen filed through the door, forming a circle around him. The footmen raised their weapons towards the mob but did not fire. From the sides of the castle, gardeners, stable hands and gamekeepers approached. Armed with whatever they could find. The gamekeepers had weapons but the rest had spades and hayforks.

“Oh la, Mr Wickham. Why so obsessed with Elizabeth? There are several beautiful Bennet sisters that are not taken...” Lydia curtsied coquettishly and giggled with her sister Kitty.

Darcy could see glints from the bayonets of a line of baker rifles, forming behind the mob. The militia had arrived, he had yet to see which side they were on though...

Darcy ripped off his shirt. Gasps and exclamations rippled through the crowd.

Darcy's deep baritone voice boomed over the gathered crowd.

“As you can see. There is no D for the devil nor is my chest marred with any other demonic signs. You can all see it is a W. Carved into my flesh by a sore loser who wanted to abduct my sister but instead of finding her, he encountered me. He knocked me out cold, tied me up and sliced me with his sword. If you still believe I am a demonic creature, I doubt such a being would have married in the church nor invited his family for a quiet celebration of Christmas.   
You all probably have families of your own. Wives and children waiting for you at home or mothers, fathers, sisters and brothers. Go home! If you lay down your weapons and walk quietly away. The militia behind you will let you pass without repercussions.  
If you do not disperse and remove yourself from my property... I will read you the riot act of which you all know is punishable with death by hanging if not I or any of my men shoot you first.   
If this should ever be repeated, there will be no warning, no mercy for those who trespass on my property. We have lived here on these grounds since William conquered England. Never have we seen the need to erect fences around our park to protect ourselves against the citizens of Lambton. The fence is now under construction. It will be impenetrable and heavily guarded. Those who climb or otherwise pass this limit will be shot without warning. I have no qualms about protecting my family against superstitious blaggards. Have I made myself clear?”

The remaining agitators were deathly quiet. Many had already begun to return home but the ones that still lingered had little to say.

Wickham was trapped. He could not move forward without being shot by Darcy's footmen or Darcy himself. Mr Bennet had slipped inside and retrieved a couple of duelling pistols from the foyer. They were loaded and ready. Darcy held one in each hand, pointed towards the ground.

Darcy waited in anticipation for his next move. 

Nonchalantly, Wickham turned and tried to hide in between the retreating troublemakers but the militia forced them into lines of two. When Wickham reached his former regiment, Captain Carter and Lieutenant Denny stepped forward. Darcy and his family held their breaths in apprehension.

“Mr Wickham, you are charged with arrestando ipsum qui pecuniam recepit. You will be tried before a court-martial. I will remind you that deserting your post without valid leave of absence is a capital offence. You are also facing charges under the civil court for causing and participating in a riot. Should you be found not guilty, you will be transferred to Bakewell prison and tried before the civil court.” 

The captain led on, the lieutenant took Wickham’s other arm as they escorted him to a waiting carriage.

Darcy prayed it was not all a ruse, he would take precautions until he was absolutely certain...

“No, you cannot take him!” 

A desperate woman cried. Lunching forward to rip the captain's arm off lieutenant Wickham's. Miss Theodora Wood was swiftly overpowered and escorted off the grounds.

~***~

The last soldier had left. Darcy suggested they all should venture inside while he pulled on his discarded attire. Elizabeth stayed behind to help him with his tight fitted coat.   
Inside the empty foyer, if one was willing to overlook four footmen as Darcy was inclined to do, he pulled Elizabeth into a tight embrace.

“Why did you not stay safely inside? You could have been injured, our child could...”

Elizabeth silenced him with a finger on his lips.

“My place is by your side, always...”

Darcy kissed the finger before dodging it for an even softer place to rest his lips.

*Baker rifle, the first standard-issue, English made rifle that was accepted by the British armed forces. Used in the Napoleonic War  
*The Riot Act of 1714 (Wikipedia)  
*arrestando ipsum qui pecuniam recepit = arresting one who has received money. The term used for prosecuting deserters.


	16. Court Martialled

Chapter 16 Court Martialled

Richard cursed his own stupidity. Had he approached any other than Denny in Brighton he might have spared his cousin the sordid sojourn into the seedier part of London. Perhaps he even could have quelled the rumours in Lambton before they got out of hand and turned the inhabitants against his cousin.

Colonel Foster had been livid when he discovered the treacherous actions performed by some of the men in his regiment and allowed Richard to participate in the interrogations. Lieutenant Denny had cracked with little to no inducement.   
A pity, Richard had been looking forward to needling him a bit more than what had proven necessary but having a witness to bring Wickham down took precedence over his own amusement.

Wickham's hideaway had still not been revealed. Where he had lived these past few months and who had aided him was still a mystery.   
Denny and Carter had been in Brighton, with no sightings of him in Lambton, someone must have brought him food. 

Carter, on the other hand, denied any connection to Wickham whatsoever, the evidence supported his claim. He was livid that his brother had been exploited and was now serving a two year prison sentence, he was not likely to survive. The conditions in the Bakewell prison was known as hellhole fraught with disease and lethal brawls amongst the inmates.

Who had been working for Wickham in Lambton was of the greatest importance to know. The person was culpable for spreading tales about his supposed demonized character. Someone widely connected in the local community, able to influence many. The interrogation of lieutenant Carter had revealed nothing of Wickham's Lambton conspirators.

~***~

The trial was set for the 17th of December, everyone saw the benefit of the trial being over and done with, leaving time to travel for those who had come a long way.  
The general courts martial, who dealt with the more serious crimes, needed 13 officers and a president of the court, a senior general, to form the judge and jury.  
They assembled in Chesterfield's summer assizes, were Richard and Darcy was called in as witnesses. 

Darcy wanted Elizabeth to stay safely at Pemberley when he attended the trial. Elizabeth was not agreeable to that turn of events.   
Darcy promised to inquire with his friend George Stephenson if he had a room for them at Tapton House. The thin walls of an inn were not agreeable to him. The positive reply came the next day. The Darcys were ready for court.

~***~

Elizabeth, Darcy and Richard were at court early to secure seats on the floor. Jane, Bingley, Georgiana and the rest of the Bennets came for moral support but not early enough and had to find a place to sit upon the gallery. Jane, heavy with a child expected any day, had refused to stay at home. Binley despaired but had no say over his determined wife.

The court was filled to the brim with a curious audience, wanting to see the beast that had been slain by the handsome soldier.

Elizabeth shifted in her seat, it was clear that some still thought Darcy was the perpetrator and Wickham the innocent victim. The patriotism, deeply rooted in the English people, had only grown since the beginning of the Napoleonic War.   
A landed gentleman, held responsible for the abdominal rise in the corn prices, now at a level were ordinary workers could no longer afford bread... The hostility and whispers around the room tended in one direction, it was not to Mr Darcy's advantage.

The discussion surrounding implementing Georgiana's part had been long and hard.   
Darcy sided for absolutely not while Georgiana freely offered her brother any aid she could possibly offer, to alleviate her culpable conscience. Richard had pointed out the difficulty explaining why he would find Wickham sprawled on top of Darcy if Georgiana's part was left out. The jury might draw the conclusion that they had been attacked by an outside force, making them both victims.   
In addition, there was always the possibility that Wickham would implicate her, regardless of the bad light it put upon himself.  
Darcy won.

The incident in Ramsgate was afforded little time in the court. The debacle occurred before lieutenant Wickham had enlisted.  
By the time Darcy, Wickham and Richard had given their statements, it was clear that the favour of the room tended towards the lieutenant. The prosecutor sent Mr Darcy an imploring look, received a barely perceptible nod and called Miss Georgiana Darcy to the witness stand. Disruption erupted in the courtroom as Georgiana was fetched from the gallery, where she had been safely ensconced between Bingleys and Bennets, and brought down to the witness stand.

“Miss Darcy, you have claimed that on the night of August 03rd, 1811. You entered your rented home in Ramsgate and found the defended attacking your brother? Would you describe what you saw...”

Georgiana gave the prosecutor a trembling nod, drew a fortifying breath and related the disturbing scene she encountered in the parlour.

“I was not out, your honour, I was in my chamber dressing for dinner when I heard something heavy hit the floor. It was a loud thump, it scared me so I instructed my maid to lock the door to my chamber. It was quiet for a short while until someone screamed. It was a blood-curdling roar, your honour. I could no longer stay impassive... I hurried down to see what was happening and found my brother in a pool of blood on the floor. Lieutenant Wickham was standing over him with his sword raised, ready to strike my brother. I grabbed the heaviest object I could find and hit lieutenant Wickham in the head with a bottle from a sideboard in the hallway.”

Lieutenant Wickham's lawyer stepped forward, a Mr John Thorpe from London.

“Did you see any burn marks on Mr Darcy, Miss Darcy?”

“No, I did not.”

“Can you explain the burn marks, Miss Darcy?”

Georgiana glanced towards her brother before she continued in a trembling voice.

“It was my fault, Sir. The bottle I hit lieutenant Wickham with contained acid. The stopper fell out on the impact and spluttered on my brother. At the time I did not know it was acid, by the time it was discovered it was too late.”

“Are you stating that the burn marks on Mr Darcy's body was not by our fine lieutenant's infliction but your own, Miss Darcy?”

“Yes.”

“Could you explain why lieutenant Wickham was at your rented house, Miss Darcy?”

“He was a family friend, my father’s godson, coming to visit I suppose.”

“He was more than a friend, was he not, Miss Darcy?”

“No, he was less than a friend. I believe he was no friend at all, your honour.” Georgiana tear-streaked countenance turned a pleading look towards the judge.

“It is easy to change your opinion in hindsight, Miss Georgiana, but were you not in his company before your brother arrived? Were you not strolling along the beach, attached to his arm and receiving him in your house before your brother's attack? Is it possible that lieutenant Wickham was, in fact, rescuing your brother from another attacker when you so viciously attacked him or were you his real attacker?”

“Objection, your honour. The witness is not on trial.”

“Objection granted,” the general, President of the court admitted but the damage was already done. Lewd comments wafted through the crowd assembled on the benches, directed towards Georgiana. Fanciful stories were made as they were spoken. Perhaps Georgiana was the real perpetrator, marking her brother with her lovers initial. A brother who may have denied the two lovers his consent.   
The fact that Wickham had received treatment at their home after the attack was seen as further proof of the lieutenant intimate relationship with the family.

~***~

They gathered at Tapton house after the first day of trial. Dejected but not beaten. The second day would prove even more challenging when the defendant's attorney called another witness to the stand, Miss Theodora Wood.

Miss Theodora lied convincingly about secret rendezvous between the now married Mr Darcy and the former Miss Bennet. Blackening his character further until the prosecutor was allowed to question the witness.

“I believe your occupation is well known, Miss Wood. We need not further debouch this courtroom with indelicate but not criminal charges, could you state your relationship to the defended?”

“I am his sister... Half-sister to be precise, we share the same mother.” Theodora claimed triumphantly, there was no sordid tale behind the connection.

“Is it true that your brother has been in London these past few months, gambling, whoring and brawling in Mrs Young’s brothel on Edward Street?”

“That is a blatant lie, your honour. My brother has stayed with me since his departure from Meryton. Where he was cruelly treated by a Mr King.”

“Are you admitting to concealing a deserter from the army, Miss Wood?”

“No!”

“Yet you just admitted that your brother has been with you since he left his regiment without leave...”

“No, I...”

“Is it not also true, Miss Wood, that for months now you have been the instigator of a vendetta against Mr Darcy. Fabricated information that Mr Darcy was not even human but a demonized beast. Have you not claimed that Mr Darcy never eats? Culminating in the exploit of a madman who took a shot at Mrs Darcy on the day of her wedding?”

“No!” Theodora had gone deathly pale as she tried to come up with a plausible explanation but the prosecutor did not wait for it.

“I have no further questions for this witness and call Reginald Carter to the stand but I humbly suggest the court apprehend Miss Wood for her crime.”

The general waved to a few soldiers to have Miss Wood arrested.  
Reginald Carter was led in by his brother, Captain Carter. Falling to his knees as soon as he spotted Theodora, proclaiming her an angel and St John as the soldiers led her away. It was blatantly obvious to everyone present that the fully grown man had the mind of a child. 

“I cannot allow this witness,” the general thundered but the implication had made its intended impression on the jury.

Next on the witness stand was lieutenant Denny who had laid all cards on the table to alleviate himself of any charge. His witness statement suggested his deception had been made under great duress from lieutenant Wickham because of a debt of honour he owed him. 

The third day of the trial mainly consisted of witness statements, confirming the prior testimonies. Captain Carter took the stand and painted an unflattering picture of Miss Wood and her brother, taking advantage of someone with a delicate mind. Gambling debts and debts of honour, Mr Wickham's penchant for young girls, even gently bred ones convinced the jury. He was found guilty and the judge sentenced him to hang by noose the next day.

~***~

Mr Darcy attended the hanging. Wickham used his last minutes to shout profanities at him. He owed it to his father and Wickham's father to see to his burial. It was arranged quietly without a sermon.

Miss Theodora Wood... Darcy had never heard mentioned a sister or half-sister of Wickham. Neither had he known Mrs Wickham's maiden name nor her origins since she died when he was a toddler. Perhaps there were bad humours and madness in the family. Neither seemed to be burden with any conscience at all.

Two days later, Wickham's sister was sentenced to seven years of transportation for hiding a deserter. The punishment was made particularly severe because of her involvement in the shooting at the church and the maligning of an innocent, outstanding member of society.   
Miss Wood had pleaded not guilty to all charges and remained steadfast in her assertion to have been wrongly accused. Not even concealing her brother, a fact she had revealed herself, did she admit to. She had been misunderstood, she claimed vehemently through the trial. The jury had not believed her and pronounced her guilty of all charges.

Sir Llewellyn was not connected to the crime despite the deserter living on his property. Darcy thought it highly unlikely the baronet had not been aware.

*Info on court-martial found on the website: thenapoleonicwars  
*Tapton house was the home of George Stephenson, the father of the railway, although I could not find out if he had moved there in 1812 when this story unfolded.


	17. The Better Part of Marriage

Chapter 17 The Better Part of Marriage 

Spring had a firm hold on the fields of Pemberley with the promise of a bountiful harvest come autumn. Mr Darcy was not outside, marvelling at this glorious April day, the anniversary for a certain visit to Pemberley, he was cooped up in a darkened chamber. 

“Ophelia or Benedict, Mr Darcy?”

“You are making me guess?”

“Humour me, I have just been through an ordeal of magnanimous proportions. I am allowed some leniency towards my quirks.”

An hour earlier, Elizabeth had been quite ready to forgo this deep and profound happiness that pierced through her entire being by any escape conceivable. Of course, there were none but to carry it through. 

Darcy conducted a thorough inspection of the countenance and smiled his crooked but genuine grin.

“Ophelia...”

“Poor Benedict, your father believe your handsome features to be feminine but we know better, do we not my precious?”

“A son?”

“I present you with your heir, Pemberley's future master and my pride and joy, Mr Darcy.”

Darcy relieved Elizabeth of her treasure and kissed her freshly washed forehead.

“Rest, my love. I will show the new master of Pemberley to Richard and the servants. How long until your mother is here, you reckon?”

“How long does it take to travel from Thornbrook?”

Darcy groaned. The Bennets had stayed beyond twelfth night before an exhausted Elizabeth had begged her sister to invite them to Thornbrook. Jane had not welcomed a son until boxing day, a little later than what was anticipated.   
Mrs Bennet had not minded the relocation. Now there were two minty fresh grandchildren to adore. Poor Mrs Bennet, who to choose...

~***~

The servants had gathered in the foyer when Darcy ascended the stairs with the new master. It might be prudent to show his son to those who lives depended upon the succession of Darcys before his grumpy cousin. He held his offspring high up in the air while his staff cheered and clapped until the babe protested with a loud wail. Benedict sported an adorable pout but refrained from any more wailing as he studied the numerous countenances that bent over him and cooed. 

“Mrs Reynolds, will you see to that the servants are offered a bowl of punch to celebrate Benedict, the new heir?”

“Right away, Mr Darcy, as soon as I have had my turn looking at him...”

Mr Darcy smiled, his eyes twinkling with a mixture of joy and relief it had all turned out so well. None of his servants flinched at the sight of him anymore, despite the lack of an eye patch. He had foregone the concept entirely after stubbing his toe one too many times on the leg of a table.   
The offending object had been ripped off and thrown away while hopping one-legged to a chair to assess the damage.  
The whiteness in his eye had begun receding. Around his pupil, there was now a ring of grey that seemed to be slowly expanding. He was hopeful that the frightening infliction might one day clear although his other scars would not. They had faded a little in colour but that was all. Elizabeth did not seem to mind. In fact, she seemed more obsessed with the hair on his chest than his scars. One of his great lady's many quirks, as she freely admitted to herself.

Having sufficiently bothered his servants, Darcy proceeded to the library where his cousin was to be found.  
He moved up to a chair by the window to get a better look himself with Richard hovering over his shoulder.

“Beautiful, little girl...”

“Son, Richard. Benedict, to be precise.”

Richard leaned in and studied the infants blue eyes, long lashes and little rosebud mouth that was still pouting.

“Uncommonly pretty for a lad... And with such a foul looking father...”

“Thank you, Richard, but I believe he resembles his mother.”

“Not entirely, he has the Darcy glare and the sour expression. Sorry old man but you cannot refute your distinct infusion and culpability in this matter. Let us agree to rejoice in the fact he has some redeemable features from his beautiful mother while he is burdened with the demeanour and mood of his father.”

A rather long suspicious sound thundered through the layers of wrappings, followed by a sickening smell.

“Do you think his mother is missing him, Darcy?”

“Most definitely, let me bring him back to her and I will join you for brandy here in a few minutes.”

Darcy tried to hold his son at arms length but the smell travelled through the air. He put Benedict back on his arm when he noticed the pout had been replaced by a serene expression.

“So that was what you had in mind.   
It was not a pout but you fully concentrated, just like your mama when she embroidered your garments. See, this little leaf here? Your mama made that while pursing her lips and I, the besotted fool, could not tear my eyes off her. Here is mama by the bye.  
Dear Elizabeth, your son has made impolite noises and developed somewhat of an odour...”

Darcy put Benedict down beside his mother. Elizabeth pulled the bell, Mrs Reynolds answered immediately like she had been waiting in the hallway for the moment she was needed.

“Mrs Reynolds, we have a smelly situation. I would deal with myself but...”

“Absolutely not, Mrs Darcy. You must rest, let me take care of it until a nurse has been hired.”

“I was thinking about asking Mrs Cole but that would mean moving them to Pemberley and I do not know if the garden needs any more hands.”

“If you want Mrs Cole, Elizabeth. I will build another garden to keep the gardeners occupied. I have a vacant cottage in much better condition than the shed they live in at Thornbrook. I will have my steward look into it and see if it needs any work before they move in. Probably needs a good cleaning as well.”

“Thank you, my dear.”

Darcy had thought to leave but when Mrs Reynolds filled the basin with lukewarm water from the ewer and started unwrapping the tiny little body, he felt drawn towards rather than hauled away. He inched closer to Mrs Reynolds and watched as his son was undressed and washed. The smell did not repulse him as much as would have thought.   
His body was lean and long with perfect little fingers and tiny toes. Darcy chuckled at the marvel of how perfectly formed a babe could be yet in such a diminutive scale.

“He has worked up an appetite after emptying his bowels. My, your face is turning red in discontent,” Mrs Reynolds cooed at the little one who most assuredly was sporting an angry red face and a quivering lip, indicating his displeasure was about to be heard.

Mrs Reynolds lay the babe at his mother’s side who immediately readied herself for the now actively seeking babe. 

Mrs Reynolds left but Darcy could not tear even his eyes away. He stood a few seconds, indecisive in the middle of the room before a few long determined strides brought him to the other side of the bed.

“Elizabeth, would you mind if I rested a little beside you? It has been a trying day.”

“Of course not. I could use a little of that warmth you seem to radiate at all times.”

Darcy was nothing if not dutiful and there was not one responsibility towards his wife that was neglected.  
He pulled off his boots and stretched out beside her, perched on one arm to look over Elizabeth’s shoulder.

The next thing he remembered was the first rays of the sun, peaking through the window. He surmised Richard had the wherewithal to help himself to his brandy but otherwise he had no regrets neglecting his cousin.  
Benedict had slept for twelve hours. Not uncommon for a new-born after the travails of birth, he had later been told by numerous of matrons.   
But to him, he was the most precious, handsome and gentle child that had ever been born. He fussed very little as long as his meals were on time. Benedict had no hankering for fasting, even for a few minutes.   
Time would reveal him as a ferocious eater but he needed it with the energy he spent in all sorts of pursuits, he was a versatile child who excelled in many vocations but this was still years ahead. At the moment, he was a content child, adored by his parents.

“Elizabeth?” Darcy whispered as the morning sun fought its way over the horizon.

“Mhm...”

“Are you asleep? I thought of something I learned yesterday but forgot to tell you.”

Elizabeth’s first reaction had been to feign sleep but her curiosity was picked. Darcy would not disturb her if it was not something substantial.

“Did Richard have some new information to share?”

“Yes, he finally discovered why Theodora Woods had such a firm grip on the population of Lambton. Particularly, the male part.”

“She offered them her services?”

“I suppose so but she was also their sole provider of the Spanish fly. Wickham was connected to a notorious group called the Mohocks. They are wealthy rogues, known for their recreational use of Cannabis sativa, a substance that is imported from the far east and is sold in nefarious shops in the warrens around Limehouse Causeway. I have wondered if Wickham may have abused that as well...”

“Why would she sell insects? My father collects beetles but I doubt he feels any personal obligations towards the traders.”

“She was not selling collectable insects but aphrodisiac pastilles made from blister-beetles. They make your blood gather in the south, followed by some nasty side effects. Particularly elderly gentlemen might need a little aid in that department, making them prone to overlook the other consequences.”

“Oh my, what a lesson.”

Elizabeth regarded him strangely. Yes, she was definitely smirking.

“So the menfolk were afraid their performance might be lacking if they got on the wrong foot of their trader. Hm...”

“You can erase that thought, Elizabeth. I have never had any need of manufactured substances...”

“Yet, you are so well informed...” Elizabeth teased mercilessly with a crooked smile gracing her sweet countenance.

“I have a cousin who supplies me with every useful, ridiculous and plain debauched insight I could ever want. He is the source of this conglomerate of knowledge, not I.” Mr Darcy defended himself valiantly. 

~***~

The Matlocks brought Georgiana the next day. With a little nephew to dote on, even her deeply buried guilt was replaced by the joy of being of use to her brother and sister. She had many more nieces and nephews to guide with her gentle soul before colonel Chamberlain again darkened the door of Pemberley. His body had grown into his arms and legs but his stutter remained. Although talking to Georgiana miraculously made it disappear.   
He courted her for six months before the stoic Mr Darcy gave his consent to the union. He might have suffered a little persuasion from his wife which made him finally relent. The war was over and the colonel had to get by on half-pay and Georgiana's inheritance but they lived frugally, dividing their time between Derbyshire and London. Spending most of their time at the latter with their eclectic group of artistic friends and new thinkers. They managed well until Darcy offered Chamberlain some shares in his railroad adventure. It proved a lucrative business.  
The union came with an additional discovery. Signing the settlement papers, Darcy recognized the handwriting.

“It was you!”

“Wwwwhat!” Colonel Chamberlain's stutter reappeared with Mr Darcy's accusatory tone of voice.

“It was you who sent me the letter from Ramsgate, alerting me to Georgiana's perilous circumstances.”

“Yes, I knew something about Mr Wickham and the company he kept through his friend, lieutenant Denny. We were delivering a message to a regiment currently stationed in the area when we accidentally ran into Mr Wickham and Miss Darcy, strolling on the beach. Lieutenant Denny's lewd comments on Wickham's behalf made me wary that the lady's family must either be ignorant or deceived. I inquired after the ladies closest relation and sent the anonymous letter to clear my own conscience.”

“Signed a friend.”

“Yes...”

The Colonel's emotions contemplating the debacle was exposed through his firm, stutter-free speech.

“In hindsight, I wish I had taken a more vigorous approach.”

“Think nothing of it, imagine what might have happened if you had done nothing at all.”

Mr Darcy and Colonel Chamberlain shuddered simultaneously. Their mental imaginations in perfect accord. Picturing Georgiana saddled with a debauched, laudanum-addicted husband.

~***~

Theodora Wood never returned to English soil. There is a brothel called Miss Theodora's in Adelaide, rumoured to have been founded in 1812 but it has not been confirmed.

Poor Colonel Richard, he was eventually caught in the parson's trap, three years after his cousin had married. He could have walked away from the girl, relatively unscathed but he opted not to. His reason can only be guessed at but the girl was sweet-tempered and had a beneficial dowry. She could not be faulted for having an over-ambitious father in the House of Lords, needing a connection with Lord Matlock.

~***~

Elizabeth was churched at the beginning of May, Benedict was Christened the week after. Somewhat hurried by the everlasting presence of Mrs Bennet who could not possibly venture back to Hertfordshire before she had attended her grandson's christening. Mrs Bennet was one of those who small doses lasted a long way.   
She had been instrumental in quelling the angry mob’s attack on Pemberley but came with a lot of brouhahas and ill advice, generously bestowed whether you wanted it or not.   
The suspicion Darcy had long harboured that Sir Llewellyn was the red-coated captain Mrs Bennet had admired had been counteracted. Sir Llewellyn had a younger brother.

The real nefarious reason for the delay became obvious when Lydia announced her engagement to lieutenant Denny during Benedict’s celebration. She was to be the third Bennet daughter to marry and with some haste by the looks of it. 

Lydia followed the drum until lieutenant Denny was killed at Waterloo. Lydia had aided the wounded and continued to nurse the sick when she returned to London as a young widow. Working at the foundling hospital as the babe she had carried had not survived his premature birth.   
Catherine and Mary, the former in particular, lamented Lydia's good fortune while bemoaning their own fate. It is difficult to decide who drew the shortest straw. The girl with an unhappy marriage or the girls who never experienced love at all...

~***~

PS: Perhaps this story took an overly dramatic turn but I know from experience that true love can stand steadfast through rain, hail and thunder.

Certain things catch your eye, but pursue only those who catch the heart. (Ancient Indian Proverb)

The End

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Note: Future planned stories that are on their way, either half-written or at least outlined, are:
> 
> *The 2nd book in my HEA series.  
> *An epilogue to Convenience of That Kind  
> *Brother Dearest, what if Darcy was not the best brother? Finished, editing.  
> *The Poldark Pride.  
> Who could redeem Ross Poldark but a new lady in town... Mrs Darcy takes Demelza under her wings and teaches the rat-bastard-dirt-bag a lesson he will not soon forget... HEA as always.  
> *Active Ingredient: Love. A contemporary mashup situated in Cornwall (a coincidence that has nothing to do with Poldark because I started writing this before I saw the TV series/read the books) between 7 of JA's books. It was half-written when I realised that juggling 8 love stories at once, cannot be done... I will keep the characters (because it was the friendships between the ladies I wanted to explore) and moderate the amount HEA's to three. Needs a lot of rewriting.  
> *A Viking family saga with original characters Elysande and Ulvhedin in my native tongue (which is proving to be difficult because somewhere along the line, reading and writing, I have started to think in English. Sigh). One book is written, five more books are currently outlined.  
> *A new plot bunny has grabbed my imagination, pertaining a twist to Jane I haven't seen done before.
> 
> Which will grab my imagination next is a little up in the air but it might be Poldark or should I incorporate the story into HEA2...


End file.
